The Craven and the Courageous
by Mark Horne
Summary: What if magic existed in the Jack Ryan Universe? What if America existed in the Harry Potter universe? Find out in this multi-chapter tale of epic proportions. Harry Potter/Tom Clancy crossover
1. Chapter 1: Condolances

A/N: I don't own anything - not the characters, setting, or the computer this was uploaded from. I picked the words out, and put them in an order.

What if magic existed in the Jack Ryan Universe? What if America existed in the Harry Potter universe? Find out in this multi-chapter crossover of epic proportions.

Set immediantly after "The Bear & The Dragon" and "OoTP".

Updated Thursdays.

End A/N

Chapter 1: Condolences

President Jack Ryan was the President. Not just any president. Not the president of a college or of some knitting club, but president of the United States of America. And the USA wasn't just some country, but it was the best country. It was made on the idea that all people were created equal, that the rights of man were more important than the government, and everyone should have a voice. It was a country made under God, but not really like God like the Christian Jesus, because you could believe in any religion you wanted to or didn't want to, in America. Really it was just like created under a higher power, like something more than human had taken hold of the hearts of the Founding Fathers and they created something good, and pure, and beautiful. In America a person could do anything they wanted as long as it didn't hurt someone else, like murder or robbery. In America a person could say anything they wanted to, unless it hurt somebody and if you said it out loud it was slander and if you wrote it down it was libel, and you could get sued for it either way. But in America people were free unlike they were anywhere else. It was so amazing.

The other awesome thing about America was that it had some of the coolest people alive. Like Ben Franklin, or Martin Luther King, Jr - the son of Martin Luther who started the Protestant Reformation in Germany that had almost destroyed Catholism except that the Pope cast a magic spell that saved it and increased the fertility rate of all Catholics so that they could never all be killed at once. But the most awesome American of them all was President Jack Ryan. He had done everything - he was an ex-Navy SEAL, a fantastic chef of French and Thai cuisine, and had done many incredible things. He had saved the Pope from assassination by Danny Luther King, son of Martin Luther King, Jr. Ryan had saved the greatest Russian submarine from being destroyed by robotic sharks. One time President Jack Ryan had been watching a baseball game in Denver, Colorado when a nuclear missile flew in to blow up the city. Ryan had run down to the game and grabbed a bat, and as the missile almost hit, he hit it with the bat and the missile flew back up to outer space and blew up like fireworks and twisted into a second metal moon. And even though the heat from missile burned off all his clothes and President Jack Ryan stood naked in front of 30,000 people, they all cheered him.

Now President Jack Ryan was the President, and it surprised even him. Because not even six hours ago, China had shot an ICBM at Washington and almost killed him and the whole city while SWORDSMAN was there. That ICBM had been destroyed by a swarm of American Bald Eagles that pecked it apart right before it hit the city. All of those eagles died. And though Washington hadn't been nuked it had been littered with dangerous radioactive debris.

_I should be dead_ President Jack Ryan thought. _Instead here I am and now I must decide the fate of China._ POTUS was sitting in his underground DEF-COM room with all of his important advisors. They were at war with China since the Chinese had decided to attack Russia for oil and gold, and would have taken all if it with a fleet of 1000 tanks, except that America stopped them and saved the Russians. After the Nuke launch, the really evil people in charge of China had been replaced with Chairman Fang, an old, wizened man who was sort of nice and rational, but had sex with his secretaries, because underneath all of his dignity and wisdom, he was really a dirty old man, almost as dirty as Mao had been.

Vice President Robby Jackson spoke up first. "Mr. President, we have to hit them back. We can fly all of our nukes out on planes and bomb every last city until every one of those damn slant-eyed yellow motherfuckers are straight-eyed and green." Robby Jackson was the first black Vice President.

After he spoke, Arnie Van Damm, the President's chief of staff, and most trusted friend spoke next. "Jack, the American people are going crazy. They want blood and they want it to taste like sweet & sour sauce. The Chinese almost destroyed our best city and there's no way in hell that we can forgive and forget it. If you don't do something, they're going to impeach you!"

Then Mr. Adler, the Secretary of State, and a friend from Ryan's past spoke. "Sir, as the most diplomatic man here, I have to be the voice of reason. The Chinese leaders who launched that nuke aren't in power anymore. They were arrested and now a kind, old wise man is in charge. He already apologized and has ended the fighting with the Russians, he wants peace, sir, he doesn't need to be our enemy, and we don't need to kill millions of people."

President Jack Ryan thought about what each of them said. He was a peaceful man at heart, and didn't want to destroy human life where he didn't have to. On the other hand, he had a wrathful vengeance, and was the funnel for the American people. In American, since everyone has a voice, he had the polls to be his ear, and he was the tool of America. He thought for a long time, and also he had a terrible hangover since after surviving the nuclear attack he got really drunk.

"Alright everyone. This is my decision. The Chinese have tried to destroy the symbol of world freedom here in America. This would have been the second time in 8 years that the government of America was killed, and this time I would have been killed too and I couldn't stand in to lead America. This cannot be forgiven. This is time for a new doctrine. This is called the Ryan Doctrine II. Any country that tries to attack America, we will invade and conquer and make a new state. Once a country is a state of America it will be free and it will never attack America again since it would be like attacking itself. Since Fang is a wise old man, we will give him the terms of surrender. First he will turn over the former leaders to us. I don't believe in that damn liberal International Criminal Court, so they will be tried for War Crimes in Washington, the city of world justice. Second he will renounce communism and submit willingly to become the 52nd state, after Puerto Rico, which joined last year. Fang can be the first Governor. If he refuses, we will declare war and ask Japan and the other members of NATO to invade and then we will divide the country between us."


	2. Chapter 1a

Begin A/N

I totally don't own this. I'm not writing this for money. I'm writing this for the joy I get from it.

If you thought this wasn't going to be a crossover, than you just hadn't waited enough. Here's the part with Harry. This is after GoF, but before the end of Ootp. And then it goes a little AU.

End A/N

Meanwhile, as the President made his decision, Harry Potter was standing at the top of Hogwart's tallest tower. He was deep in thought. Over the last several months, his love life had been in shambles. First that really hot Asian girl with a Scottish accent had moved back to China to help with the war effort. Then Hermionie had discovered that she was a lesbian. And lastly, the girl who had almost stolen his heart, Ginny, had died. Harry thought of all the other women he knew and tried to find one that might like him. He was so alone. No one understood what it was like to be the most powerful boy wizard alive. And he was terribly lonely. Why couldn't there be some girl who had had her parents killed by Voludemort and were destined to destroy the evil wizard? Harry had a most sour expression on his face.

As Harry was on the verge of tears, Dumbledore walked out onto the tower.

"Harry, you have a most gloomy continence. Tell me what is wrong, my boy. A heart cannot hold all the torment that yours seems to have."

"Dumbledore, you are so right. I feel so very alone. All this weight is on my shoulders and it is too much for me to bear."

"Harry, we are never really alone. Even now your friends and the ghosts of your parents are here, looking down on you and giving you all the support you need to face the awesome responsibility you have. My boy, you can do it." With that, the older wizard swept his young apprentice up in a huge hug.

"Dumbledore you are like a father to me." Harry was happy at last, safe in the arms of his mentor.

Except that he was not safe! In that instant, a blue and purple beam of energy shot them. They were instantly paralyzed in their tender, almost filial embrace. A dark storm swirled overhead and then was rent asunder by a crash of lightning. Through the tear in the cloud cover, a dark and menacing figure flew down before them. He had a chilling look in his black robes, almost like a bald Ralph Fiennes in heavy make-up.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" He cried. It was Voldemort! The most evil wizard of all time! "Now I have you Harry Potter! It was I who killed Ginny, and made Hermionie a lesbian so that you would be alone. In your depression of course you would come up here to this forbidden sanctuary of the damned and hopeless. You are the easiest of pickings, a cherry hanging from the vine. And now" he said with a flourish, spinning around in a quick bow, "I will reveal the rest of my plot and a terrible secret. First, Harry, you must know that those simpletons I killed were not your actual parents at all!" Harry, frozen as he was, could not react, but if he could have, he might have swooned or yelled "NOOOO."

"You should have realized it Harry. Why would you live with those muggle aunt and uncle of yours? Wizards cannot be related to muggles, so if they were really related to your supposed parents, that would make them muggles and unable to birth one of your stature! Harry I'll tell you who your real father is," ... "DUMBLDORE!" Voldemort laughed triumphantly.

Harry was a little upset. In his mind Dumbledore thought _Harry it is true, that is why I have always believed in you_.

"And now," said Voldemort sinisterly, "The true purpose of my plan!" He reached into his stately robes and removed another wand. With these he shot a magic beam from each and then crossed the streams and aimed them directly at the boy wizard and his father. Instantly the two fused into a middle-aged man with a Bismark mustache and receding hairline and greying sideburns. He was still paralyzed.

"Now, hahahahahahahahahahaha, you are Dumblepotter, the most powerful good wizard in all of creation! But, fortunately for me, you are still under my control!" As he prepared for the next part of his plan, two birds flew at the crazed evil villain. It was Harry's white owl Horiatio and Dumbledore's Phoenix Burnie! They flew at Voldemort and scratched him across both cheeks simultaneously.

"ARRGH!" said Voldemort! Unphased, he pointed his wands at both birds and shot them! Horiatio was instantly destroyed and sent to bird heaven where he will feast on field mice forever. Burnie was changed into a Darigan Phoenix, meaning that he turned black and evil and grew a set of spikes down his back. He flew over to his new master Voldemort and alighted on his shoulder.

Inside Dumblepotter, Dombledore cried. A single tear appeared on Dumblepotter's cheek.

"HAHHAHAHAHA!" Now Voledeore turned himself into a thick, black mist and floated up to the frozen Dumblepotter. He entered through the nose and ears and was quickly in the brain which turned from neutral grey to greasy black. Instantly the three were merged and became "Voldedumblepotter!" Screamed Voldedumblepotter! "I am now the most powerful wizard alive! I contain the wisdom of Dumbledore, the youthful vigor of Harry Potter, and the infinite evil of Me! Together we will rule this world! I need not these wands anymore." Voldedumblepotter left his wands on the ground and flew up into the air. His flying was much like a rocket ship and the explosive wake it left ignited the wands on top of Hogwarts. Given that wands are full of magical energy, it is dangerous to explode them and they exploded into an inverse fireball that went all the way through the tallest tower. Each floor that was consumed with fire set off even more magical items and within moments the entire Academy was destroyed in a plume of amazing destructive fire and magma and death. Everyone inside was instantly disintegrated.

Then Voldedumblepotter screamed and his words shattered the sound barrier and were carried to all the major news satellites floating in space.


	3. Chapter 1b

A/N

Whoa! A lot happened in the last chapter! I didn't see that coming!

Right, these aren't my property, so don't mistake my writing for piracy.

\A/N

After President Jack Ryan made his speech (A/N in the first chapter, about China! \A/N), a page ran into the room, with a TV set. "Sir, sir, you have to see this!"

On CNN was a man standing next to the English Channel in France. Across the Channel one could see England, which was covered by ominous black clouds. A glowing pillar of light erupted from the clouds and a silhouette of a man could be seen floating high above England. Then there was a crackle and a voice could be heard over the broadcast. "Hail muggle fools of Earth! I am Voldedumblepotter, and I claim enlightened monarchy over the whole of this planet! I have unthinkable power and will destroy all who deny my territorial claims! I will show you my power by making this country my throne!"

With that, the whole of England began to shudder and rip from the ocean floor. Passing CNN newsjets were circling nearby and recorded the event as the island nation was warped and torn and reshaped into a giant floating castle of iron and concrete and dirt and some coal. The process took mere minutes and it was plain to everyone that all the English people of the world had just been killed. Ireland was also washed clean by a tidal wave.

POTUS and the rest of his cabinet were stunned dumb and quiet. Suddenly Jack's hangover was gone and the realization that his knighthood meant little anymore suddenly hit him like a Gatorade canister full of dead, cold fish. "We had….we had a special relationship with England…." He murmured to no one. Suddenly the Chinese didn't seem so bad. He called Ben Goodley, the chief of the CIA. "Ben the whole fucking world just turned into a cockshoot and I need to know if this stuff on CNN is real!"

"Mr. President, Jack, I've tried calling everyone on the island I know, and nothing is coming back. Our agents in France have been watching from the Eiffel tower. It's real and true as the sky is blue, England is gone."

"What do we know about this Voldedumblepotter, jerkoff?" The president snapped into his red phone.

"Not a damn penny's worth, sir. There's been no indication that something like this was even possible. I've been going over all the intel from England and can't even find out what the word muggle means. We're in the dark about what this guy is capable of, but he sure seems like a shoe salesman in a caterpillar farm, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, Benji, I do." SWORDSMAN slammed the phone down. He turned back to the cabinet. "Ben says this is gold-plated flaming reality. We're dealing with someone who apparently doesn't exist and can seem to bend physics to his will. I'm going to authorize a nuclear strike on this sonovabitch. We fought a war to stop being ruled by a monarchy and we're not going to start again as long as my name is Jack Ryan!"

With that he ordered a nuclear strike by bomber with the same enthusiasm that one orders a stuffed-crust pizza from Pizza Hut.

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(BLANK SPACE TO INDICATE CHANGE IN PERSPECTIVES. REMEMBER TO REMOVE THIS WHEN YOU UPDATE!!) --

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As the nuclear squadron pulled off from Langley Airforce base, Captain Ralph McSmith, fighter pilot, was excited. He'd been eager to fly his Glowing Angels into Soviet Russia to burn every Hammer and Sickle down with atomic rain. But after the Russkies had gotten a bad case of the economic depression all of his dreams were down the drain. Now he would get to lead his men into the face of death and deliver a fiery greeting like a punch to the chin from God.

The F-22 is the most advanced fighter plane in existance. It can dominate the entire fleets of the next top 58 militarlily advanced countries combined. In addition, a single F-22 costs as much as the fleets of the next top 58 militarily advanced countries combined. The F-22 is 62 feet long, has a wingspan of 44 feet, weighs 55,352 pounds, and is powered by two Pratt & Whitney F119-PW-100 Pitch Thrust vectoring turbofans.

He kissed the picture of his wife, Florestina, winner of the Miss Maine 1974 beauty pageant, that he kept around his neck and put the plane in throttle, destination: England.


	4. Chapter 1c

A/N Like I mentioned in the other chapters, this is just a fanfiction, and i don't claim any responsibility or proceeds for this work. None of the characters are mine. They were created by much better and talented authors than I.

Chapter 2 coming soon!

/A/N

Servious Snape, once the lead singer of Nine Inch Nails, now a humble school teacher and prince of the house of Slytherin, was taken aback by the news. He along with a troupe of school children, Ron, Herminone, and Draco Malfoy were on a field trip to Brisbane and were currently dining in a pub when the news came on a corner ceiling television on the wall in a corner.

Ron and Draco were throwing French Fries, here called Chips, at each other while Herminone groaned and attempted to keep studying. "Children, stop it at once!" Snape demanded. He pointed at the screen, "Look!"

The image was of the complete destruction of England and the text of the message from Voldedumblepotter.

"Voldedumblepotter? Who could that be?" asked Ron thoughtfully.

"You fool!" Herminone sighed. "It must be the magical combination of Voldemort, Dumbledore and Harry! No wonder he could destroy all of England! He must be the most powerful wizard of all time!"

"England, destroyed? Oh no…my family…" Ron broke down into tears. Draco put a comforting arm around him.

"It's ok Ron, all of our families have been killed. We're orphans together. It's like we're a family," Said Draco kindly and gently, easing away Ron's grief. Underneath all of his bluster, Draco was really a deep feeling soul, with an urge to do good and kind things for all people and races. Draco was wearing a pair of dark-washed blue jeans and a button-up shirt that was navy blue with white vertical lines on it. The color was good for his skin tone. His hair had product in it to give it nice volume. He had given up that greasy slicked back look he had when he was 10, for something more sophisticated. He was quite a charmer to the ladies.

Snape was doing something useful and tried to call the Academy on his magic cell phone. There was no answer. He called the local Wizardry academy of Australia and did receive a connection. The children waited as he talked.

And waited.

And waited.

And then. "Children, this is serious. I have conformation that indeed a super-powerful wizard has destroyed England and Hogswart. They are telling me that now is the time for wizards to unveil themselves and have suggested that we travel to the United States to advise the president there. Apparently they have ordered a nuclear attack on this monster."

oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo (A/N, is that a good line break? This system is kind of wonky, and I need to know what is good to break up ideas. Post reviews!)

President Jack Ryan stepped out into the Press Conference Room. It was packed with sad faces, fear in the eyes of people that usually hated and despised him. Even the soulless profit-mongering liberal media had to bow their heads in sadness at the destruction of England. Jack hoped that this tragedy would at last teach them humility.

Jack took the podium. The room was quiet, waiting for his guidance. Jack felt like a king, a king with a crown made of lead that was weighing him down and keeping him on the ground, rather than in the skies of freedom that flew over all of his country. He had a responsibility, a dreadful one, to make tough choices and calls at a crazy time like this. Never had he felt so small and powerless. Everything he had done up to this point was nothing compared to what he had to face. How could he do it and juggle domestic policy at the same time? Would healthcare take a backburner to this?

"Americans, people of freedom, hear me now. What we have witnessed today is the most monstrous and cowardly of acts. Never have so many people been murdered in such a swift pace and so much history and majesty been thrown to waste. Today we are all Englanders."

He bowed his head in silence for five minutes. Then he lifted his head. "I cannot even believe this has happened. I don't know what we're facing, but I know that we must not let this crime stand. We will not bow down to another king, not in this land of the free! Let him come here on his floating castle! We'll see just how good our eagles and our ballistic missile defense is worth! He can rip up every inch of land in America, he can crush our bodies and burn us down, but he will never, never take our Freedom from us!"

There was sharp applause from the reporters.

"With that said, I have ordered a nuclear strike on Voldedumblepotter whatever his name is, by the Glowing Angels out of Langley Airforce base. They will hit what is left of England in 8 hours and I hope the rest of the world can forgive me for this. In the meantime I have a meeting with the United Nations to discuss what has happened."

Jack Ryan left immediately and left Arnie with the task of cleaning up the reporter's questions.

oo--oo--oo--oo--oo-oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

oo--o--oo--oo--o-oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo-oo--oo-o-oo-

Special Agent Fox Mulder sat straight up when he saw the news. _Finally _he thought to himself inside his head _the proof I need! Aliens must have caused this._

Special Agent Dana Scully walked into their shared office. She was as professional and beautiful as ever, her dark red hair matching perfectly with her gray business suit. Neutral colors bring out more vibrant colors in an outfit. They can match with anything.

"Scully!" Fox exclaimed. "Have you seen the news! This is it! Aliens! For real!"

Scully sighed. "Fox this is an international travesty. And there are other reasons for it. Perhaps wizards caused it. Aliens simply do not exist. After all we seen and all we've been through, how can you react like this?" Scully seemed to be bothered by something.

Fox noticed at once. Although an introvert at heart, he had learned to read Scully's reactions. "What's wrong?"

"Fox, there's something I have to tell you. I'm pregnant. You're the father."

"What!? But how, we only made love that one time-"

"I know," said Scully wistfully, thinking back on the incredible sex that had marked their biblical knowing. "Such was your maleness that we only had to have intercourse once."

"This is so incredible!" Fox said, forgetting the events of the world. His dashing features were alight with happiness. "I never imagined that I'd be a father, not after my family was abducted, I never thought I could love again."

"Fox," said Scully. "There's something else. My career in the FBI is too important to jeopardize by being a mother. I'm having an abortion."

Fox was shocked. "Then, we'll I'll quit the FBI and raise our baby. We can do this Scully." He pleaded.

"No Fox, we can't. You're too obsessed with finding the truth to ever focus on a child. I know that sounds harsh, but no one knows you better than I do, and it's a truth that you have to accept. People cannot change Fox. And I can't bring this child into the world."

"Scully…Dana…please let's talk about this…" Fox was close to tears.

"I'm sorry Fox, but this is what's right for both of us." Scully turned and left the office, shutting the light off behind her. Fox was left sitting in the dark, alone, so alone.


	5. Chapter 2: When Angels Fly

A/N - Still none of my characters. Some are Tom Clancy's and some are JK Rollings. There are a few others that are other peoples. Capt. Ralph McSmith is mine, I made him up. But nobody else...so far!

This is the real second chapter. I wanted to make it smaller, or bite-sized, so that it wouldn't be all hard to read on here. If you guys like longer chapters, let me know!

END A/N

**Chapter 2: When Angels Fly**

The Glowing Angels were screeching across the Atlantic at Mach 5, meaning that they would be in target in mere hours. To pass the time Capt. McSmith thought about how hot his wife was naked. While he was having imaginary sex with her President Jack Ryan was receiving a special phone call.

"Hello, this is Jack Ryan, President."

"Yes, Mr. Ryan, my name is Gandalf and I have information you might find useful about Voldedumblepotter."

"Who is this? Tell me what you know!" Ryan couldn't believe a break was finally cracking in this mystery.

"Well…why don't I tell you in person."

With a poof of smoke, two men and three teenagers appeared in the Oval Office. Jack Ryan was astonished. His first reaction was to call the secret service, but instead he decided to play it 'cool.' One man was dressed in flowing purple robes and a large stovetop hat. He was an older fellow with a long beard that was white as snow. Next to him was a dour chap with a long nose, almost penis like, Jack thought to himself, hair as black as soot. There was an ugly red-headed boy, a girl with big brown eyes, and a handsome fiery-blond kid that Jack instantly wanted to set up with his eldest daughter Guivienve, also know as SLUSHIE by the Secret Service.

Instantly Andrea Price-O'Day burst into the room with her gun drawn. "FREEZE!" She yelled in her best loud-I-Kill-Motherfuckers-Voice. Jack waved her away.

"Andrea, calm down, these aren't towel-headed terrorist cock-suckers. I think they're here to help."

"That's right sir," Said the man in purple. "My name is Gandalf theWhite, and I am the chief executor of all the wizardry academies of the world." He spoke in a slow, Southern drawl, laced with some West Cockney British. It was clear that he had been educated thoroughly in Tennessee.

"Gandalf? You're the one who just called me on the phone! How did you get here!" Jack Ryan was a man who wanted answers. When he had questions he wanted those answers even sooner, and no one was more questionable than the President.

"Sir, I am a Wizard. Magic is still very much apart of this world, and I and the people like me have taken to great efforts to make sure that we stay hidden and may study our ways in peace. Unfortunately Voldedumblepotter has changed things remarkably. Let me introduce my colleagues. They were all students at a magic academy on England, and as far as I know, the only survivors. This man is Snape, the children are Ron, Hermonine, and Draco."

Ron and Andrea's eyes met across the room. It suddenly struck Ron that he had never seen a more beautiful woman. Andrea put her gun away.

Gandalf continued speaking. He took his time and minced his words as one might an onion to bring out the flavor in a tender steak. "They know a great deal about Voldedumblepotter and will be able to inform your Greatness about nearly everything. I will depart shortly to meet with the high council of wizards throughout the world to determine just what we must do to stop Voldedu," the old man took a long breath "– this great and dire threat." He tipped his hat respectfully and then vanished.

Snape took over. "Mr. President, we believe that Voldedumblepotter is actually the magical combination of three very powerful wizards and is being controlled by a very evil man. We know two of them, the dumble and the potter. They are Grayson Dumbledore, Headwizard of the…former….Hoggwart's Academy and Harry Potter who was destined to kill the third wizard, Voldemort. I am not sure how, but Voldemort has taken control of this menagerie and apparently wishes to take over the world."

Jack Ryan wasn't going to take this sitting down. He stood up and paced in circles around the group. "So all of you are wizards, like abra cadabraa and hocus pocus, and you're telling me that maniac out there is one of you?"

"Technically, sir, he's three of us," Heromine interrupted. Realizing she may have made a fax pass, she looked at the ground and blushed gracefully.

"Is that right? Well if this whole world is full of wizards and magic and stuff, why can't all of you zap him?"

"Mr. President," Snape said dryly, "It is just a little more complicated than that. Obviously he is extraordinarily powerful, more so than all of our wizards, possibly more than all of us combined. The magic we have does not tear islands from the sea. Gandalf will be consorting with the wizards to see what offensive options are available, however we may need your help."

"Well you'll have about 100 megatons worth of help in about 5 hours. I've launched a nuclear strike force against that asshole." Jack was wearing a nice pinstriped suit and American Flag tie.

"Hmmm…" Snape scratched his chin. "I'm not sure what will happen when they reach their target."

"Alright, I'm going to need a better analysis than that. But I know how hard this must be on you and the kids. Why don't you collect your thoughts and give me and my war cabinet a full briefing in 4 hours?" Jack hit a button on his phone. "Beatrice? I need you to prepare four rooms, give them the whole works."

Then he buzzed his secretary, Jeanne. She appeared through another doorway. "J, I want you to take these guests to the guest rooms. And if my kids are around, get them to introduce themselves."

Jeanne smiled and tossed SWORDSMAN a pack of cigarettes. Jack winked at her. Then she led Snape and the others out of the room.

Andrea came up to the president. "Sir, this is highly unusual."

Ryan almost lit up, but then remembered that Andrea was six weeks pregnant, and stopped himself. Instead he took a sip of the bourbon that was warming on his desk. "I know Andrea, but this is a damn weird mess that we've suddenly been thrust into. Aww shitass! I forgot the UN meeting!" Ryan ran out onto the lawn were a helicopter was preparing to lift off for New York. In the Oval Office was left a stunned and confused Special Agent Andrea Day-O'Price.


	6. Chapter 2a

A/N I do not own any of the characters in this story. Please enjoy responsibly.

/A/N

Another Special Agent was also very confused in Washington. At the FBI Headquarters, Fox Mulder was pacing the corridors as the building cleared out of people rushing to their homes, fearing for the end of the world. That's when Chief Agent of Operations, Lt. Kincaid Skinner found him.

"Mulder, for Christ's Sakes, the world is about to end out there, what are you doing here?"

"Sir, Skinner, I've got it bad. It's in my head, it's in my heart. I found a new truth, sir. Love."

"What in the Sam Hill are you talking about Fox?" Skinner rubbed his hand over his gleaming bald head. His tie was striped sideways. It was blue and yellow. But more of a navy blue and a nice cream yellow, some might call it a custard. He also wore an off-white button up shirt.

"Scully. She told me she's pregnant, with my child, but she's not going to keep it and she thinks I'm too nuts to be a parent."

"Shit." Skinner cursed. "Fox, I wish you hadn't told me that. Dammit." He smashed his fist against the wall. He turned back, a concerned look in his eye. "You know there isn't supposed to be any inter-agent romances here. We're professionals, and we can't be professionals if we're knocking up our partners. Fuck." He cursed again. "Fox, I have no choice but to fire you right now. Get out, don't even get your stuff, we're going to have to destroy it. Dammit Fox, you were a damn fine agent, I needed you, and you had to mess it up like this. Stay away from me." Skinner stormed off.

Fox looked down at the ground and slowly shuffled out of the building.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In Russia, Rainbow Six leader John Clark was having a fifth of vodkha. He did it not because he liked alcohol, as a strict Baptist liquor was forbidden to him, but to mourn the loss of his special forces friends during their botched attempt to stop a Chinese nuclear launch. To his left was his son-in-law Ding Chavez, who had also been at the site and watched some close compadres die in nuclear exhaust.

Ding sighed, "How did we let that happen, senor? How could we screw that up?" He took a shot of v-juice and then hit a bottle of wine.

Clark smashed the bottle against his head. It shattered into a thousand shards, but he was unfazed. He was shot in the forehead when he was 18 and a steel plate had been inserted. It was during a drug sting gone bad. Clark had been an FBI internist at the time, and what was supposed to get him some college credit got him his first Purple Heart. After that he enlisted in the Army and paratrooped into the final battle of Vietnam – Tinnamon Square. He prided himself on the amazing 15 kills he got that day, but he never forgave his government for cutting and running. If he had gotten within 100 yards of Ho Chi Minh he would have put a hollow point right into his left ear. When John Clark was decommissioned after the war he spent six months on the mean streets of Alexandria, Virginia killing pimps and the hoes who abused them. The CIA arrested him and sent him to Prison Island in the Bermuda Triangle. After 6 years of hard labor, John Clark was a changed man. He was a man who had been in prison. He re-enlisted in the Army and served in Grenada, Afghanistan training the mujahedeen to kill Russkies, and in the first Gulf War where his sniper bullet killed the knife-wielding snake Saddam hid in George H. Bush's luggage. John Clark had been called many things, killer, murderer, madman, hero, leader, but he had never been called sentimental. John Clark was now sentimental. He was an old man watching young men die and having a drink with the kid who was banging his daughter. They had a kid, for Christ's sake, so not only did that prove that Ding had put his thing in his baby girl, but it meant that Clark was a grandfather, and grandfathers were old men, so old they had beards to their knees.

"At least," Clark said "that last nuke was stopped before it hit Washington." He raised his bottle in toast, and Ding heartily slugged back a Yueager bomb in salute. The rest of Rainbow Six was at the Sparrow School training the spies-to-be there in subtle art of subtly. After their drinks, Clark and Ding would have to pick them up and get aboard the long train home to England. In their drunken state they didn't even know there was no more England. They had been at the bar for over 12 hours and there were no TV's in Russia.

Suddenly the rest of the Rainbow 6 team burst in with Goluvko, the head of all Russian spies burst into the bar. The bar was called Dyrkdarid vieakd na ei dk NoKove in the native tongue, or in English "The Drunken Fool Wins!"

"Finally Comrades we have found them!" Said the spy chief.

"We have been looking through every bar in this city for you two!" Said "Ace" Felette, an Italian cop who could shoot a gun better than any man alive. One time he had been in the market when three men tried to rob an old lady. He whipped out his Beretta and killed all three of them in the head without even thinking about it. If his gun had been a sword people would call him a ninja. Instead they called him Ace. Rainbow Six was called that because it was made of people from all the countries in Europe. The rest of the team was Edgar, a Danish mechanic, Aragorn a Fin who could track and ski like no other, and Jimbo, an explosives expert from Poland. Together they were a fighting force that all terrorists feared. Mostly terrorists in Ireland, but also some of those Basque guys in Switzerland who wanted to separate the country into the shape of a pie. They were in Russia now for the express purpose of taking out the Chinese nuclear facility. R6 totally destroyed five of the six rockets, with the help of some Russian Spetznatz commandos. All the Russians had died, because Russians are expendable. But Clark and Chavez were still sad about it.

"Hey guys, we were just toasting the mission, grab a brew and join us," Chavez said.

"There is no time you drunken fool!" Goluvko roared. "Rainbow 6 has been summoned back to America! There has been an incident of terrible occurrence!"

"Huh?" Said John Clark. He usually knew everything as it happened thanks to the marvels of American intelligence. But then again he had been in a bar for the past day, thinking about how old he was getting. Chavez was a good kid to have as a son-in-law. He was a good 15 years younger than his daughter who he had met in an infirmary. Chavez was starting his internships and his daughter was an army infantry woman who had been wounded in the first Gulf War. Chavez had 'miracle healing hands' his daughter told him, and when Clark had been tasked with starting Rainbow Six he knew he was going to need a damn fine medic. And damn fine was a good word for Chavez, he had skin like golden honey and a laugh that could have melted the Cold War. Clark warmed up to his son-in-law real quick, and was looking forward to the grandson, it better be a grandson, though he wasn't so happy about the grandfather part. Clark was too young to be old and he damn well was expecting to send a few hundred more sonsofbitches to hell before he started collecting Social Security. Clark loved the thrill of the kill, especially when the target was a commie, or a drug dealer, or someone who looked at him with a crooked smile and a gleam in the eye. Clark loved many things, but most of all his wife. He was a family man at heart, except when his heart was filled with violence like that time he was in –

Clark was jostled from his thoughts by the former KGB Chief. "You old goat, stop day-dreaming and pay attention! England has been destroyed! A madman is now holding the world at ransom and is demanding the surrender of all the countries!"

The madness of Glovcough's words shook Clark from his thoughts like he was a newborn baby in the hands of an alcoholic abusive father. "England destroyed? That's impossible! The base is there, holy shit man."

"Da, comrade, it is true, look at my palm pilot." The screen was linked to a scrolling text bar and was playing the headlines from CNN. John Clark couldn't believe it, but he knew in his heart that CNN would never lie.

"Do we have any contact from America?"

"Not yet," said Glovkco. "He has given a press conference and has said that a nuclear strike team is flying to the base of the madman. I believe he will attempt what he calls the 'Ryan Doctrine.' He is also planning to address the United Nations in just a few of your Western minutes." In Russia they used the metric system to tell time. It was a leftover of the Soviet command economy. Every day was made of 6 parceks, which in turn were broken up vertically into meters and then liters. So if you asked what time it was, and it was 6:30 a.m. a Russian would tell you "Second parcek, 30 meters, 6 liters" because by the time he answered six seconds would have passed from 6:30 a.m. It was their strange telling of time that caused them to lose the war.

The spymaster gathered Rainbow 6 and led them to his upscale apartment where they could watch the meeting on HD.


	7. Chapter 2b

A/N Exciting things are going to happen, I promise!

OoOoOoOoOoO

Ryan stepped up to the podium in New York. New York is a mere twenty minute bus ride from Washington D.C. where the President lives. The President doesn't take the bus though, he has a secret tunnel that runs straight to the UN building. It is called the Metro. He was wearing a Navy Blue suit, since he had been in the Navy this is allowed, with matching pants, and a tie with the American Flag on it. The blue in the flag matched the suit, and Jack's eyes. Jack's eyes were one of the things that attracted his wife to him back in their college days. She was starting Premed and he was sweeping floors in the bathroom because his father was too poor to send him to college. They were smitten and made love frequently in the janitor's closet. They were married soon after. She went on to become a famous brain surgeon. Her code name is STURGEON, because she is an avid fisher and owns a fleet of shrimping boats she inherited from her father – Julius, named for the slushie drinks. Jack's favorite color was blue. He didn't like the ocean though, it was too full of sharks. One time, as a navy seal, he had been bitten by a shark, and boy did it hurt.

Ryan tested the mike. He took a deep breath. The mike worked fine. Today he would give the most important speech of his life. The world was at the crux of destruction and now he had to unite it. The world was often in division. The Israel-Vietnam conflict was always spiraling out of control. Iran and Iraq, despite having unified, were squabbling over the diamond mines on their borders. China, obviously had just been at war with Russia and America and would have been conquered and destroyed it if not had Voldedumpblepotter appeared and destroyed England.

"Hello everyone," President Jack Ryan said to the assembled masses of dignitaries and diplomats. "As you can see from this screen" he pointed to a large screen that was showing CNN. The castle of England floated over the ocean ominously. "We have a dire world threat. The is Voldumblepotter and his flying castle made of England. He has called for the immediate surrender of the world to his will. I decided to react unilaterally and have sent a squadron of nuclear armed fighters to attack and destroy Voldumblepotter. I believe that peace will follow. As you can see here, those are the F-22 fighters." He pointed to several black specks.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The Glowing Angels roared toward the remains of England like a bear roars when someone hits it with a stick and then runs up a tree but the bear isn't deterred and knocks the tree down and eats you anyway. The Glowing Angels were the bear and Voldedumblepotter was the person who threw that stick (a sharp one too!) and England was the tree. Or so they thought.

Voldedumblepotter was sitting on a nice lawn he had made for himself on the tallest dark tower of evil in the center of the floating castle when he heard the approaching sonic booms. "Hahahaha they are like worms trying to fight an eagle!" Which is ironic, because eagles are Americans, not evil. He exclaimed. The mad triwizard summoned up 40 Dementors and sent them to stop the pilots.

Ralph McSmtih knew his life was over when a skeletal hand reach through his flight console and pulled his soul from him. He managed one last twirl of his mustache and then exploded.

The Glowing Angels hit evasive maneuvers immediately and there is nothing more nimble than the F-22 Raptor. Except for these ghost guys who require neither physics nor jet engines to maneuver.

While normal people would panic, the Glowing Angels merely were frightened. They attempted to shoot down the Dementors but the bastards were immune to high velocity depleted uranium rounds.

Then they decided to advance, flying at top speed toward the target. More ghosts appeared from the castle and the Glowing Angels – now down to five - would have been sandwiched in a death sandwich, when out of nowhere 100 French Eurofighters flew in and engaged the Dementors. Usually France is neutral, but this time they were mad. England was the largest importer of French wine and chairs, and France, a hard-working mercantile country of profiteers would not suffer this blow to their trade in silence.

The brave French had no chance against the ethereal monsters, but their distraction allowed the last of the Glowing Angels through.

Voldedumplepotter was cackling with insane glee for some reason, I don't know why, when five nuclear missiles hit him right in the face. The explosion was bigger than anything you have ever seen in your entire life. All the ghosts disappeared. Maybe you have been to the zoo, maybe you have seen an elephant or giraffe, this explosion was bigger than that. It was bigger than England and if you've been to England or seen a picture you know that is big.

The five Americans – Todd, Emeril, Ray, Sanchez, and Luigi - were hailed by their French brothers who offered them a celebration full of cheese and wine and the finest prostitutes. They had no trouble understanding them because all fighter pilots learn French in America; it is a tongue of warriors.

OoOoOoOoOoO

President Jack Ryan watched the whole thing at the UN meeting on a giant pull down screen. He leapt up and cheered when the missiles exploded and everyone was happy. It was so crazy exciting that the ambassadors from Israel and Iran hugged and then started French kissing because the Iranian ambassador was a smoking hot babe.

Everyone agreed that the world was saved from Voldedumblepotter.

Unfortunately this was not the case. Voldedumblepotter hadn't been destroyed. Rather his vaporized atoms fused with the corpse of England and his evil combo soul merged with the island. This is a common occurrence in Hiroshima and buildings and objects will talk to you in Japanese. Since Voldedumblepotter was no ordinary Japanese citizen he regained his sentience and took over the floating castle as his new body. The first immediately recognizable trait was that a huge face appeared on the castle's front where the drawbridge would be.

"Cures you America!" Roared Castle Voldedumplepotter. The sound wave he caused swept through the air. All the planes were destroyed and the pilots all killed except for Luigi and one of the French pilots – Jean Paul.

OoOoOoOoOoO

At the UN the smoke cleared on the screen. President Jack Ryan was stunned to see the immense face island castle floating that was before them all. Then came the curse. The room was shocked. No one had ever cursed America like that. It was a land of peace, bravery and harmony. Its healthcare system was praised around the world and its friendly border guards and plentiful jobs proved that America was the world's friend. It was plain to see that Castle Voldeumpblepotter could not be deterred by nuclear weapons. President Jack Ryan needed a new plan.

Kofi Annan, Chief of the UN called for silence. "My friends it is plain to see that the threat is still among us. As we all know peace is not an option. But as the UN we must pretend. So, as usual, I call on America to defeat this monster. Mr. Ryan you have our staunchest support we will attempt to distract Voldeumplepotter with lengthy and drawn out diplomacy!"

"Hear hear!" cried the gathered diplomats. For once, Ryan thought, I like the UN.

"My fellow people of the world, expect that in due time American ingenuity will find the way to destroy this floating castle of evil and return the world to normalcy once again! I call on each and every one of you to talk as slowly as possible and offer the vaguest and confusing surrender negotiations you can muster!" Said Ryan. The diplomats were aflutter, their hearts beating in unison, inspired by the President's words. Forget America, they though, Ryan deserves to be President of the world. Or POTW.

President Jack Ryan, man of action, sped from the hallowed chamber with his secret service entourage. "Alright, I want a cabinet meeting immediately with those wizard people. We're going to work out some action and work it out fast."

Andrea Price-O'Day was already on the phone giving Arnie the instructions. He was a good man, good at meetings, good at following orders, good at setting up meetings. Arnie knew it too. He knew it back under the old President whose death still hung over him like a rain cloud. The old president wasn't a wise man, nor an ethical one, but he had a good chin and knew how to handle the press. And even more importantly, to Arnie Van Dam, Chief of Staff, the past POTUS knew how to be handled. Not like that wild son-of-a-gun Jack Ryan, craziest damn fool ever. He didn't know a thing about politics or voting or taxes or anything. But one thing he did seem to know and this comforted Arnie, was that he knew how to give a damn good speech and make a flashy entrance. All that world saving, pope-alive-keeping, Navy SEAL antics were all just part of the show Ryan was always giving. Though Arnie had known Ryan since they were children, keeping it real on the mean streets of Boston, he knew that Jack had a perpetual need for attention – or maybe it was a psychotic death wish? Either way Jack was a loose cannon, but Arnie had to admit, these were loose cannon times.


	8. Chapter 2c

A/N Just a shorty. I don't own this Mulder fellow at all. Also, if you missed the sixth chapter I put up, you should go back and read it. I think it's chapter 2a.

Mulder fumbled with his apartment keys. He had been at a Moe's a block down wasting a month's pay on Corona Lites and Joey Bags of Donuts. After his day he felt he deserved it. The door swung open with a deep creak. The apartment was a mess, much like Mulder often was. He stepped over the pile of mail that had accumulated on the other side of the door and slipped on a credit card offer. He smashed into the kitchen table. It splintered and sliced his forehead open. Mulder tried to drag himself up but he began to vomit and the strength gave out from his arms and he collapsed into his own excess. As conciseness fled him, Mulder focused on only one thing – the unborn child he would never have.


	9. Chapter 2d

A/N These characters were created by talented and amazing professionals, and all I'm doing is trying to honor them with this work.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Marion rolled over and shut off her alarm clock. She ran her hands through her deep auburn hair, and then stretched and she rose from her feathery bed. There was no time for the idleness that comes from much rest, and she dressed quickly. Today was her high school graduation. She was leaving school in the top of her class. After cleaning up, grabbing a quick bite to eat, she kissed her mom goodbye and was out the door to catch a ride to the practice ceremony with her best friends, Jean and Kitty. The sun was bright in the sky, the clouds white and fluffy, and the birds were at their most tweatingist. Jean was driving her red Pontiac mustang – top down, with the music blasting. Marion exchanged hugs with both of them and then jumped in the backseat.

The radio was playing one of Marion's favorites; "Another Brink in the Wall (pt. 2)" by the legendary The Doors. "You think you're just another brink in the wall, but I can see right through you," crooned Paul Morrison. Marion had a slight crush on Morrison, but this was complicated by the fact that he had blown his head off at the tender age of 27 with a shotgun after overdosing on heroin. The police had originally believed it to have been a robbery attempt gone wrong given that there was no suicide note – but eyewitness testimony by his then girlfriend Courtney Love (they have since broken up) and that Morrison was holding the shotgun, which records indicated he had bought the day before, and to which the store clerk said "Aye, 'e was agonna keel 'imself what with that gun 'e done bought" (he spoke like that because Morrison had done this in England where he lived, unlike America, England has, or had, since it is destroyed, very loose gun laws) convinced them otherwise.

Marion was happy. Singing along with the other girls to the song's floaty chorus and catchy syth-pop beat, she remembered all the wonderful memories she had had during her eighteen years of growing up. She would be moving on to her pick of colleges on fantastic scholarships such as the Polish Student Achievement award, and the Transitory Success Recognition Grant. The girls gossiped about the hunky boys at school. Jean was caught in a love triangle between Scott Summers and James Logan. Scott was the stud lead quarterback, moving on to play at Notre Damm, and Logan was a rebel in his black leather and 'whatever' attitude. Kitty and Marion were both 'in lurve' as the internet geeks called it, with Bobby Drake. He was quiet and reclusive, and often quoted Nietche, in his infinite wisdom. Bobby knew exactly how to talk to women and could feel a deep empathy for the suffering of others that few boys at that age could manage. He also dressed sharp and had looks that could cut.

Everything was as perfect as could be for Marion. Until now.

Though scientists are unsure of the reasons, every teenager eventually experiences a mutation that gives them strange and amazing powers. Usually this happens around puberty. Doctors were able to develop a vaccine that stops this from happening. Marion's parents were strict Catholics who didn't believe in evolution, so they refused to have their daughter vaccinated. Up until now nothing had happened. Unfortunately, Marion was a late bloomer. At a stoplight, Marion leaned forward to tell Jean something, touching her shoulder, and her mutant power activated. Marion's particular power was the drain the life force from another person by the touch of exposed skin. Jean had a seizure, slumped forward and hit the gas pedal and sped into traffic. The two-way traffic running perpendicular meant that the Mustang was sandwiched between two cars. Kitty and Jean were both killed instantly. More cars, in turn, smashed into the initial ones and a multi-car pile up ensued. Marion was strapped in her seat, upside down in a metal cave. She whimpered. Marion would have been killed as well, but the drained life force from Jean gave her enough hit points to survive.

"Come on, snap out of it," she said to herself. It took all of her mental fortitude to break out of the crushing fear that was now falling on her with leathery wings from the shadows of hell. She reached up and unclipped her seatbelt, toppling to the ground. Surprisingly she found herself unhurt, other than a few bruises. She was covered in oil and dirt, her clothes tattered. With all her strength she managed to squeeze through a crack toward a vestige of sunlight.

Ambulances and a crowd of people were already on hand, horrified by the accident. Marion managed to stand and immediately drew a number of gasps. A paramedic ran over to check on her. "Miss, miss, hold still," he reached out with an arm to check on her. His bare hand grasped her arm, and it happened again. Marion was flooded with energy and more – memories, feelings – His name was Howard, 35, married, two children, both girls, his hobbies included scuba diving and basketball. He crumpled to the ground. Marion, wide-eyed with terror and confusion, shrieked and pulled at her hair. Two policemen on the scene recognized what was happening and went for their phones. "We have a rogue mutant on hand. Request back-up."

The other officer began to approach Marion cautiously, one hand on his gun and the other outstretched. "Miss, please lay down and remain calm."

Marion would have none of it. "Mutant? I'm a mutant? A rogue mutant?" Finally it came to pass that the realization that she was the one that had caused Jean's collapse, and the paramedic's demise, struck her. She turned and ran behind her. Howard, having been an expert basketball player enabled Marion to leap the wreckage with ease and sprint away. The crowd on the other side paid her no mind and she fled deeper into the town, unencumbered. She turned down an alley a few blocks away and curled into a ball on the ground. "I'm rogue, I'm rogue…" she whimpered as she shook softly. Howard was starting to fade from her mind.

A homeless man, tall, African American, approached her. "Hey honey, what're you doin'?" When she didn't answer he sat down next to her and watched her shake. She didn't even realize he was there.

He thought her beautiful with her nice hair, pretty eyes and pale, white skin. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her face. Her eyes went wide, and she grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip and yelled, "Don't touch me!" He wouldn't ever again, as Marion had grabbed him, and the life force was drained from him. Her grip was too much, and her panic was so great that she could not break the hold. All of the man's energy passed into her, and he died. Forever.

Marion was mentally blown over by the consciousness of the man. His name was Antwahn, 37, a former basketball star for the L.A. Clippers, currently addicted to crack cocaine, and The Marijuana. Weed is a dangerous, mind-altering drug that cannot become unaddicted once it has chosen a victim. Marion gasped. He had been married, but was now wandering the streets, looking for the next fix, and the chance that he could break the spell he was under. But it was too late for him. He was dead.

Marion began to tremble again. Not only was she a mutant, but she had killed a man, and now, having absorbed him, she too was a drug addict. Antwahn began to bubble up inside her.

"Damn girl, why'd you have to do that shit? I didn't want to die."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said out loud to no one.

"Sorry ain't going to do shit now. I was just trying to help you, didn't need to go and kill me and all that. And now I'm inside your head? What's up with that? You're pretty hot though, I mean, if I have to be dead and all, at least it ain't so bad to be inside a nice looking girl like you."

"No, no, no, get out!" She screamed.

"Bitch, calm down. Don't yell and carry on and all that. Look, just talk to me inside your head, that's where I'm at, right?"

Marion calmed down. She began to think instead of talk. "Please get out, I don't want you in me."

"There's nothing I can do about that. Not unless you think you can unabsorb me back into my body."

Marion tried that, putting her hand on the body of Antwahn. Nothing happened. He was cold as ice.

"Hmm. Well looks like I'm stuck here until we can find some other way. How'd you do that, by the way?"

"I'm…I'm a mutant." She couldn't even really believe it herself. Her parents had told her there was no such thing.

"Wow, I didn't ever think I was going to see one. I'll tell you what, rifle through my pockets. I've got twenty bucks and a bag of dime in there. Why don't we go get high and think some more on this predicament?"

"Oh no!" She said with much enthusiasm. "Look, we're in my body now, and I'm not having any of it! I'm in charge, and that means no drugs!" Antwahn had always been weak by nature, and the force of Marion's will was too strong for him. His desire to do drugs was destroyed.

"Arrrgh!" He thought as a part of his personality was disintegrated. After a moment, the pain passed. "Oh man…that's it! I'm not a crack addict anymore! Hell yeah! You saved me! Thank you, oh thank you…wait, hell I don't even know your name."

Marion thought about it. "My name is Rogue," she said hesitantly.

"Rogue, huh? Well alright. I'll call you whatever you want. Now that I'm clean, we need to go talk to my wife, maybe she'll take me back, and I can see my kids again."

"Antwahn, that won't work. You're in the body of a woman, now. She won't recognize you."

"Hell, you're right. We'll have to convince her that I'm me. Maybe you could touch her and we could all be in here together. It'd be like a mind party or something."

"NO!" Rogue mentally screamed at him. "No more, besides, that would kill her."

"You're right," Antwahn felt sad for a moment. "She may have divorced me and thrown me out, but I don't want to kill her. And then no one would be able to take care of my girls. Alright then, we have to figure this out. First get the money and the weed. We can sell it to someone else. Then get my sweater. It'll cover you up so no one will be all touching you and dying and shit. After that … I dunno. Maybe you could go to the clinic."

"I hadn't thought of that," thought Rogue. She pulled on Antwan's old sweater and took his drugs and money. Then she moved the body and hid it in a dumpster. Since he was homeless, no one would care that he was dead. And now that she had absorbed the powers of a pro basketball player, Rogue had no trouble moving the 6'4" 300 pound corpse.

Pulling the hood over her head, she started down the street. Her old life destroyed, Marion had become someone new. Someone who hadn't even graduated high school.


	10. Chapter 3: The Gathering of Fate

A/N This is all owned by better people than me. I'm glad to see how much everyone is enjoying it!

OOO

The president was in his war room. Built deep beneath the national mall, the war room is one of the most forgotten secret places a president has. Originally created by Frederick Delano Roosevelt during the Second World War, it is a room used often for war, but never for peace. President Jack Ryan had been there more times than he would have liked, but something about him drew war to him, much the way hundred dollar bills will draw cheap whores. To Jack Ryan, war was a cheap whore, dirty, ugly, covered in the gross eye shadow of nationalism to hide the bruises her pimp left her. And though she might be cheap to pick up, she always ended up costing much more than you bargained for. The American people loved a good fight, Jack Ryan knew he did too, but they didn't like the herpes sores that came with loving a cheap whore – the herpes of young men dying to defend freedom. The press had spent the last war playing up casualty reports like they were scores from a football game. They wanted the people to know just how much herpes they were getting. Jack Ryan didn't like whores. But this war was different. This was about fighting a magical evil that had killed 60 million people in the snap of a finger. This was not something Jack Ryan had learned about in CIA school. So he was here now in the barren war room with his top generals, his secretary of state, his secretary of defense and a man who was most mysterious – Severus Snape.

"Alright, since NATO has been invoked, what resources can we draw on?" Said President Jack Ryan.

Five Star General Chuck Rufflo answered quickly, "Russia still has most of its armor tied up at the Chinese border. Not that land forces will be very useful against V. Their air force is also mostly tied up out east. If the Chinese situation can be resolved, then maybe we can do something."  
"The eastern European countries have only marginal air power," Chuck added, "mostly left over from the Cold War. Spain has a fair amount, and they've agreed to sin in their navy. Portugal has no defense so they're going to build lots of missiles and guns and hope that V passes nearby. The British Navy that is left is moving toward the Atlantic now. Three battleships and an aircraft carrier that are docked in Italy are heading for the Atlantic as well, along with the Italian fleet."

"Alright," said SWORDSMAN. "I want all the navies of NATO to unite in the Atlantic and form a blockade of V. We cannot let him get to America. Tell this to the NATO chief and get him to work out the logistics. As for us, move all western National Guard units to the eastern seaboard. There's no way to tell exactly where he'll come ashore, but we'll need everything we have. Launch the aircraft carriers from Norfolk and Jacksonville and have them meet with the NATO navy as well. I want our subs on standby as well; they'll be a second line of defense if V gets through the first blockade. They have permission to use all of their armament, and yes, that means nukes as well."

The orders were sent immediately.

"What are the Europeans planning?" Ryan asked.

"They want a unified air assault on the castle. They should go along with the naval blockade. There isn't a damn fine British Naval Officer still alive who doesn't want a crack at that flying asshole."

"Then that's what they'll get. Scramble everything we've got over there, put it all in NATO control. And I mean everything, pull it out of Turkey, pull it out of Iraq. Someone get me whoever is in charge of China, I want that mess straightened out so we can get our boys out of there and to where the real furball is. You," he pointed at Snape, who up until now was bored to tears, "Tell me why the castle has a face now."

"Yes Mr. President," said Snape in his drollest voice. In his darkest Deatheater days, he would have cast an Inexcusable Curse and tortured Ryan until he went mad and raped his children and eaten his wife. But Snape had given up the freedom of evil and how he had to contend with answering dull questions. "I" he paused for dramatic effect "hypothesize that your initial nuclear attack fused Voldeumplepotter with England."

"So he is actually the castle?"

"Yes that's what I said," Snape rolled his eyes.

"What are our magical options here?"

Snape sighed and thought about casting an exploding curse on the whole room. "Since this enemy," he paused "is the magical combination of, now, four things, pulling them apart will be difficult." he paused. "Doing so would break Voldedumplepotter's power. Now I've known a few spells that will merge and unmerge people, but on a much smaller scale. It is important to note that these spells merge only the physical bodies. Souls are always independent and reside in the Corpus Resinediex, located at the base of the skull," he tapped the back of his neck. "There are three separate souls in that castle."  
"So we could free your friends?" Jack Ryan could not let an innocent life go to waste.

"Yes," said Snape. "The trouble would be finding the Corpus Resinediex. A flying castle made of England does not have the same anatomy as a human being. If we could locate it, we could free the souls of Harry and Dumpledore and steal almost all of Voldedumplepotter's power. This would be quite important since Voldemort is still quite a magical adept and would require the talents of Dumbledore and Harry to defeat."  
"Hmm..." Jack mused over this information. "What happens when we free them? Is V still attached to England?"

"Yes I imagine he would be, unless we were to find the soul of England and free that from the Corpus Resinediex as well."

"England has a soul?" Jack was dumbfounded.

"I don't have any bloody idea!" Snape lost his cool. "I've never ever met anyone, insane or otherwise, who could imagine the scenario we are now faced with! This is completely absurd, and yet I am expected, nay demanded, to have every answer to everything! If the castle has a Corpus Resinediex, which is a mystery in itself, it should contain the souls of all of the merged parties. In all the minor one person on one person merging situations I have encountered this has been the case. Past experience is no predictor of the future, certainly not a future that features a huge, evil floating men-castle!"

"One last question, Snape," Jack stroked his chin. "If we destroyed the castle, the entire thing, would it kill Voldedumplepotter?"

"Yes," Snape said without hesitation. "That would do the trick. I imagine, however, that even a Yank like you can appreciate the immensity of destroying the entirety of England."

Jack looked away from the upset wizard and turned to General Pattington. "Can we do this Pat?"

"Nuclear weapons couldn't do it sir. I'm not sure that there is enough combined armament in all of NATO, or even the world, to destroy that much rock. We're talking about tens of millions of tons of good, solid British soil."

"Then we'll need something unconventional. Get me the CEOs of Caterpillar and Lockheed. Snape, can we track down the Corpus Resid-thingie?"  
"Yes, I imagine that can be done. One can cast a spell to track down the energy a soul gives off in a regular person. The amount of soul-energy being given off by this monster would surely be easy to find."  
"Awesome!" Jack gave a high-five to himself. "Then I have a plan! Someone get me Rainbow 6, I want them stateside ASAP."

"Sir they're all still in Russia, it could take days to fly them out here ..."

"That's OK! It's going to take time for the fleet to combine and for my other idea to be prepared. NATO should be able to keep V at bay. I've got a call to make to Germany while I'm at it."


	11. Chapter 3a

**A/N** - As with the previous chapters these are all characters that are owned by other folk and I didn't get anything for it but the satisfaction. Um, I looked and it seems like only one person has read this all the way through, and maybe not even that. Do you guys like it?

oooooo

Dana pushed open the glass doors with ease. Inside she was greeted by soothing jazz music and a polished, but comforting waiting room. It was sparsely populated, five other people and a receptionist sitting behind a glass wall. Scully went to the receptionist first and was given the appropriate forms and requisite wood clipboard. She took a seat next to a young woman, hunched up and wearing an oversized gray hoodie. The hood was pulled on as tight as it would go, effectively hiding the young woman inside. Scully flipped through the first couple of pages and began.

"You don't have to sit here, ya know." said the woman crossly. "There are plenty of other seats." She waved a dirty, too-long sleeve at an empty bench not too far away.

Dana smiled. "I thought you could use the company."

The woman snorted. "Ah have all the company Ah need right here," she said tapping the side of her head.

"Maybe some different company then. My name's Dana." Scully presented her hand. The woman didn't take it and kept staring forward at the waiting room. "It's nice to meet you..." Dana left the sentence hanging in the air like a model airplane above a young boy's bed, just waiting to be swatted by the imaginary anti-aircraft fire of a child's arm.

The woman sighed and that same model airplane was indeed struck by the flak of conversation. "Rogue, mah name is Rogue."

"It's nice to meet you Rogue. To tell you the truth, I actually needed the company. Otherwise I would start thinking about what I'm doing here."  
Rogue's curiosity was piqued. "What are you doing here?" She turned her head slightly to see Scully's response. Rogue was caught by surprise to see the beautiful woman sitting next to her. With her red hair framing a buoyant face, lips pursed in thought, Scully appeared to be the embodiment of all things feminine, she seemed to be strong, decisive, in control of her feelings, and completely confident with her place in the world. The trim grey business suit contributed to that sentiment, highlighting her curves and narrowing her waist while still presenting her as a professional. She was sexy, but not a slut. She was classy, but not a prude. Dana Scully was power. Dana Scully was what Rogue would have wanted to be as a woman, if not for fate. Only her eyes betrayed the sense that something was not quite right, that there was something she could not control. A hint of sadness, a vestige, an inverse anchor leading up from the depths to show all the vessel hidden on the surface. Rogue felt her icy demeanor begin to melt. The anger and self-pity that had been shielding her from the pain of the last day, and keeping everyone else out, was now softening. She felt for Dana, whatever it was that had brought her here.

The FBI agent took in Rogue's eyes. She could see what Rogue saw in that moment, and realized how she must appear to the young woman next to her. Though she was cognizant of the pain of her own situation, Scully realized that something even greater must be going on behind the brown eyes that were waiting so intently for her next words. Despite the clothes, and the smell, and the dirt on Rogue's face, Scully could see past that to the young girl struggling with fear and in desperate need for guidance and support. Somewhere inside Scully was a young girl struggling as well.

"I'm here for an abortion," she said with gentle solemnity, laying a delicate, yet battle-hardened, hand on her stomach.

President Jack Ryan was the leading advocate for abortion in the country. He had ramrodded millions of dollars into research and now the process was completely painless and took only minutes. The procedure was also free, but only for women who were pregnant. Jack Ryan, a man of freedom, wanted to take all consequences out of abortion, so nothing could stop anyone from being free. Abortion clinics were often connected to mutant cure facilities and were called Life Change Centers. Several alternative life-style groups were hoping to add gender-swapping to the list during the next Congressional session.

Rogue was here for the cure.

"Mah God, why?" Rogue gasped, unable to her hide her Catholic repulsion for the murder of babies.

"The father is a madman, and a baby would ruin my chances of moving up. As an FBI agent I would be unable to perform in the field while I was expecting - the child would always be at risk."

"So you'd rather put it out of its misery now?" Rogue shook her head. "That don't seem right. But the father, you said he was crazy, did he rape you?" To the Catholics, if a child is created in sin, either by rape, incest, or the doggy-style position, it is an abomination and should be destroyed. Abortion clinics are usually used for this, though their faith would prefer a bonfire. The Irish used to substitute a cooking pot instead of a bonfire and ate the babies, and this is why Ireland was destroyed - God used Voldumplepotter to wash their heathenism away. God will kill you too, if you eat your babies, even the evil ones.

Dana smiled at Rogue's question, remembering the gentle embraces, deep kisses, and soft touches that came with her acceptance of the love they were to make. He had made her feel truly like a woman that night. "No, it was completely by choice. I exaggerated a little - Fox, that's his name, is a dreamer. He just doesn't belong in this world like normal people. He...I just can't see him as a father. He would always put himself first."

Rogue wasn't impressed. "Like you aren't? Talking about your job. What job is more important than the life of a child?"

Scully was taken aback by the force of Rogue's words. She had seen a girl, scarred, but now the voice of a confident, righteous woman was booming at her. "As an FBI agent, I've saved people's lives, I've brought killers to justice, been kidnapped by aliens, and fought a monster that lived in a septic tank. All of that – "

Rogue cut her off. "Kill all the monsters in sewage you want. A child is more precious than that. When you see him smile for the first time it will melt your heart. Nothing at the FBI will do that for you I have two daughters and when they were born –"

"Wait," Dana was confused, "You have two children?"

Rogue blushed, realizing the slip. "Ah mean, Ah have a friend who has two kids. He told me all about it. But the point s that this is a life. One that you can do more for than just save. You can shape him, help him help the world."

"If there is a world left for him to grow up in ..." they both looked sad and the weight of the grave situation weighed on them like a fifty pound weight.

"Why are you here then?" Dana asked after a few moments. "Clearly it's not for the same reason I am."

Rogue looked down at her feet, shame rising in her. "Ah'm a mutant. A filthy mutant. I came here to get fixed."

Scully was shocked. Although she had encountered mutants before in her work on the X-Files, never had she met one so young and so ashamed. She reached out and put an arm around Rogue. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Covered as she was by the hoodie, Rogue didn't react to Dana's comforting.

"Mah power isn't a good one. When ah touch someone with mah skin it pulls them in me. I can read their thoughts, Ah have their strength. It's terrible, Ms. Scully. All Ah do is hurt people. Ah can't live like this."

"When did you first experience this?"

"Just this morning. Oh it was terrible, Ah can't talk about it, but Ah need the cure. Ah need to be human again." Tears welled in her eyes and it was only moments before they started falling.

Dana pulled her closer. "You are human. It's not what we can do that makes us different - it's what we do do. Your powers can be a gift or a curse, it just depends on how you use them."

Rogue continued to sob. "You don't know what've done with them," she broke down "Ah didn't even mean to..."

"What did you do?"

"Ah, ah can't tell you. You're a cop." Rogue sniffled and rubbed a sleeve across her face.

"I'm not just a cop. I'm your friend. And you don't need prison, you need help."

"Ah...ah killed four people. Maybe more. There was an accident..."

The TV in the corner flipped to a story of a horrible car wreck and possible mutant involvement.

Dana watched and then nodded. "I see."

"Mah parents told me mutants are creations of the Devil. Ah know why now. Ah'm a creature of hell."

Dana looked her straight in the eye. "What can the devil create that God cannot uncreate?"

Rogue shook her head, confused, but she pondered the question. "Nothin', Ah guess."

"Exactly. Then there's hope for you. Maybe you can learn to control your powers." She paused and thought for a moment. "The government sometimes hires mutants to work for them. Maybe they could train you."

"To do what, be a cop like you?" Rogue rubbed the tears from her eyes.

"Something like that. I can introduce you to a friend of mine who might be able to help you. Come on, let's go talk to him."

Rogue hesitated. The cure was so close, a normal life just a procedure away.

"Rogue honey," said Antwah "Go with this chick. Government jobs are some sweet ass shit. The pay is great, there are mad benefits. Hell maybe they'll show you a way to get me out of your head. And I could see the way you were looking at her. You think she's pretty cool, and she thinks you're pretty cool. If your parents are going to be all like 'You're the devil, go to hell' and Dana here is like 'You're a human' you know, follow the positive influence. I mean, and really, I'm actually a little nervous about this cure deal. Like what happens to me when you don't have powers? Do I stay? Do I disappear? Shit, I don't want to just fade away. I mean I like you and all, but I want to die in my own body. I guess not like my own, since you put it in that dumpster and it's all drugged out and shit, but like one that I could have for real. Anyway, what I was saying was that you should stick around her, follow her lead. Mother figure and all that."

Rogue nodded in agreement to Antwahn's voice. Turning to Scully she said "Alright, but on one condition, you have to keep the baby."

Dana put a hand against her stomach. What she had not told Rogue was that she was only terrified of the changes that would overtake her. Since joining the X-Files she had fought so hard to remain normal. And now, after doing one normal thing so many people did - sex - she was left with consequences that would destroy the near balance she had spent all her energy keeping. Looking at the girl next to her she realized that her young life had just been as rearranged. They were both facing the same thing now. They both could have normalcy back with a few minute procedure. Why take this step into the unknown?

Because, somewhere deep inside her Scully knew that there was more to life than the straight and narrow. She had seen so many strange and fascinating things in her career. So many mysteries had been uncovered, so many yet remained. Was not the birth of a child just as mysterious? Why would she shy away from this challenge after overcoming so many others?

"I accept." The FBI agent said. "Let me take you to my friend."

Rogue smiled and stood up. She had saved the life of an innocent child. Maybe she was still on the path of righteousness. Maybe she could make up for all the pain that she had caused this morning.

"Damn straight you can girl!" said Antwahn. "Keep that fine chin held high!"


	12. Chapter 3b

Dana pushed open the glass doors with ease

Mulder woke to a horrendous knocking on his door. The knocking turned to smashing and the rotting thing broke away. Six armed men, dressed in dark suits, entered and secured the room. Mulder was barely aware of what was happening when two of them pulled him to his feet.

"Sir, are you Special Agent Fox Mulder?" Asked a third. The dark sunglasses and combed hair did little to hide the disdain etched in the man's face like the dark lines on the gray surface of an etch-a-sketch.

Mulder blinked and tried to get his bearings. "Hey what is this? You can't arrest me! This is bullshit!"

"Sir are you Fox Mulder?" The man asked again, unfazed by the triad.

"Yes I'm Fox Mulder! What the hell is this man?"  
The man nodded. His mustache was fantastic - a true specimen of masculinity.

"I'm special agent Pat O'Day, Secret Service."

"I've never counterfeited money or assassinated a president or nothing! Get out!" Mulder's drunken rage was quite pronounced.

"Sir, I've been sent to invite you to the White House. The president would like to meet you."

"Then tell him to send a letter, not this door-bashing Gespato crap!"

"Sir, this is urgent and related to the events in England."

"You mean?" Mulder felt like a bucket of water had hit him from behind. He had no idea what the president would want with him, but if it involved England, then maybe someone was finally starting to believe. "Alright, let me change and I'll -"  
"There's no time Mulder. Clothes will be provided on the way. I'll be able to explain more as well."

Mulder, shaking in his vomit soaked suit and unable to stand without the support of two men, had nothing to lose. His life - careerless, womanless, devoid of meaning and purpose was forfeit. "I'll go, take me."

Pat O'Day nodded with a grin. He would take Mulder - to the president. When Pat O'Day did a job he did it hard, and he did it fast. Mulder was a job, Pat had done him hard and fast. The President would be pleased - Fox Mulder was not an easy man, to find, - and Pat liked to please the president. Jack Ryan was his kind of man. A real man, made of morals and principles who kept in good shape and didn't let the sissy capitalists make him smoke dope and become weak and fat. Pat loved his wife too, like the real man he was.

The Secret Service agents left quickly and with more secrecy than with which they arrived. Mulder was placed in the back of a black SUV. Pat sat next to him. A fresh pile of clothes lay on the seat.

"Here, change," said Pat in his characteristic commanding voice. Mulder obliged and was soon stripped bare and naked for all the SUV to see. Pat was impressed. He had seen many men in his day, but none a foot long soft like the ex-FBI agent. Pat had thought him a nerd, but obviously this Fox must be a real pleaser of ladies. Pat even felt a little twinge of envy. With a piece like that, Pat could be a father of hundreds - not just the single child growing slowly in the abdomen of his wife Andrea.

Despite what Pat was thinking, the couple had started late down the parenting road so they could pursue their careers in law enforcement and then later in the secret service. They had met there, both serving the previous president. He was a dyed in the wool pinko floppy-spined, limp-wristed liberal who wanted to make a statement by having a woman, Andrea, be his secret service agent. It was this pandering that caused America to become as wussy as it currently had been before Jack Ryan took over. Jack was sworn in as the flames of the Capital building flamed up at the night sky fed bright by the pink blood of the last administration. A crazed Japanese pilot decided to skullfuck America and the last president let him. And that had cost a lot of roly-poly senators and the last Oval Officiate their lives.

When Jack was in charge order returned like a boomerang. He sent the Japanese a letter saying they'd better pay up for this, and they did. Because of Jack Ryan nobody in Japan can fly a plane anymore. Koreans, a colony of Japan, can't even fly them either - because they look Japanese. That's the way the Ryan world works.

Pat wasn't thinking about any of that. Instead he was watching Mulder put on a new pair of boxer briefs. Pat imagined what pleasure a woman must feel when she takes that immense dong into her secret love waterfall cave.

"So Agent O'Day, you said you could tell me more about this?" Fox pulled a shirt over his taunt frame.

Pat shook away his day dreams. "That's right. You may be the leading man when it comes to the paranormal - and right now things are damn weird."

"You can say that again," said Fox as he finished dressing.

"The president wants you as an advisor."

"How does the president even know me? I work in the basement of the FBI building and my superiors treat my work as that of a nutcase. They call me 'Spooky'. I couldn't get their attention if I jerked off in their faces."

Pat tried to hide his smile at the thought.  
"Well son, the President knows a lot of things. It may not have seemed like it, but you came on enough faces to get your name rolling around. Yeah, sure it was all jokes, a way to get a laugh about UFOs and werewolves and shit, but now there really are UFOs and werewolves and shit and it's your chance to laugh at us."

"I wish it didn't have to be under these circumstances."

"Neither does England, son," Pat leaned up real close to the ex-FBI man. "But I'm damn glad I got to meet you."

Mulder nodded and then turned to stare out the window. He thought he saw Dana with two teenage girls, but he shrugged it off as a slight madness.


	13. Chapter 3c

**A/N **I still don't own these characters or settings. I'm not even trying to. Thanks for reading if you've made it this far. I apperciate all the reviews!

OOOOO

Across the street from the Life Changes Center Hermione Granger was sitting in a Starbucks, nursing a cup of expresso. The President was in the war room with Snape and although Ron and Draco had warned her not to go wondering the Yankee capital all full with Americans, the teenager needed to get away. Solitude was one of her most charming companions and it had been weeks since they had danced.

There was so much on her mind that needed to be processed. Chief amongst it all was the destruction of Hoggwarts. Her most memorable childhood experience had been of romping through those hallowed halls in search of knowledge, danger, friendship, and sometimes love. The more Herimone flipped through her mind's photograph collection, the more she found pictures she did not like at all. Her petrifaction by the basilisk, her kidnapping for the Tri-wizard tournament, nearly being eaten by the werewolf Sirius Black. Suddenly it occurred to her that the school was a deathtrap – proven quite literally now by the destruction of the school. It was fortunate beyond fortune that she had not been there at all. If she had her parents would now be the word that doesn't exist which is the opposite of orphan. There is no word for it, right? I checked and couldn't find it, and when I made a post on my Myspace no one responded with the word, so it must not exist. She decided she was quite glad to be rid of that place. Herminone was pained though that Luna Goodlove was dead. The youngest Granger had developed a bit of a crush on the delightful blonde. That was when another realization struck Hermonie as she sat in that Starbucks. How had she become a lesbian? She recalled that her feelings for women had manifested after Voldemort had made his return. For the life of her she could not think of any past attraction to females. All her flirting had been with men. Krum, Harry, sometimes Snape – all men, or at least man-like. It had seemed natural for her to be a lesbian when it had happened, but now it felt very sudden.

As Hiremone puzzled over these new thoughts she noticed a pair of women walking on the sidewalk in her direction. One was about her age, but dreadfully appareled in an oversized stained hoodie – a sure candidate for What Not to Wear, if Hermione watched TV she might have thought. The other in her neat business suit, carefully accenting her fine hourglass figure and perfectly kept red tresses was instantly known to the young witch. In fact, very well known, and behind her excitement she felt the tug of attraction. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a careful observer might have noticed other signs of arousal. That observer would have not time to linger on the view because she rushed out the door quite fast.

"Dana Scully! Dana Scully!" cried Hermione.

The FBI agent and her companion stopped dead in their tracks a the sight of the girl jumping out at them. With her big brown eyes and carefully made up curly tresses, she was quite a sight. Antwahn was immediately impressed.

"Whoa what a fine young lady we've got here. See if she interested in some weed. I'd love to get her high and horny!" Rogue gritted her teeth and mentally lambasted Antwahn. His wild attraction filtered through her consciousness and Rogue couldn't help but admit that she was very pretty.

Dana was more proactive. "Excuse me, who are you?"

Hierimone grinned from ear to ear. "I am Hermione Granger and I have read everything you've published." The girl extended an eager hand to the flummoxed FBI agent. Scully cautiously shook it, much to Hirmione's delight.

"I have to say that you are absolutely brilliant. The way you handled the magical events you've encountered and classified them with muggle logic is absolutely a fascinating insight into muggle mentality. Oh sorry, you don't even know what muggle means, of course. I'm getting ahead of myself and I'd rather give all my head to you. Oh! Did I say that outloud, I'm so embarrassed. Hahahahaha. Slip of the tongue. It's a term for ordinary humans, muggle, I mean, not the magical humans like myself who have access to the supernatural. You've been a hero of mine for a long time and it is most amazing to actually meet you. You have done a great service to your kind by showing muggles can rationally deal with the supernatural. My parents are muggles so it's important to me that they have a good reputation. And your case files of your adventures are just smashing. You are so brave and heroic and seeing you in person now I have to say beautiful too." She flushed a deep crimson. "I can't believe I just said that." Hermione pressed her hand against her face in mock embarrassment and smothered a giggle.

Scully stared at her wide-eyed in shock. She exchanged glances with Rogue and then returned her vision to the beaming Hermione. "Yo, this bitch is flying on bad shit," said Antwahn in Rogue's head.

"I, well, um, thank you. I've never had a fan before." Dana thought about reaching for her gun. "How did you get my case files?"

"Oh just a bit of wizardry and the internet. My parents introduced it to me. It is most fascinating and a wonderful way to find anything when properly charmed."

Dana and Rogue were sufficiently confused. "But there's no such thing as magic," said Rogue harshly. Her religion would not tolerate witchcraft. If need be, she would absorb and murder this girl to keep her from spreading lies about the real world. Sometimes it's ok to kill other people if they believe something different than you. God will tell you when it's ok. Usually He kills those people for you, but sometimes he's busy fighting Satan in the angelic wars that happen all around us invisible all the time. This time, it was not ok for Rogue to kill Hermione because Catholicism was wrong about the witchcraft thing. God punished the Catholics for not believing in magic by making them be led by the Pope who uses Clerical magic all the time. He also wears silly clothes to embarrass them. God didn't tell them this was a punishment, so they still believe magic is bad and the whole world laughs at them for having a Pope, but they just don't get it. God should really communicate better with people. If they understood they were being punished, they would try harder to believe in magic. Rogue didn't know it wasn't ok to kill Hermione, but if she tried, God would use Antwahn to stop her. Do you miss Jack Ryan? Jack Ryan will appear soon.

"What do you call England!" Miss Granger snapped. "Oh I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that, but with all the stress lately. I used to go to school there as did all of my friends. Magic is most real. I just thought that word would have gotten around to the muggles by now. I'm sorry again, and I haven't even introduced myself. Hermione Granger." She extended a hand toward Rogue.

Rogue looked at the hand, looked back at Hermione, and said dryly. "Ah'm Rogue."

Hermiine scrunched up her face in a way Antwahn found particularly cute. Dana was quick to intervene least a faux pas become apparent.

"She's not much of a toucher." Dana said. "Well it was great meeting you and all but we are in a hurry."

"Ms. Scully please, if you don't mind, you simply must come to lunch with me. I'm sure the president wouldn't mind if you came over."

"You know the president!" Rogue was fairly shocked.

"Oh yes, I'm one of his advisors on this Voldumplepotter ordeal. Ms. Scully you are one of the most brilliant people alive, surely he might listen to you, and besides they cater lunch there and it is very dashing. I did not think I'd like Yank food, but I do, what do you say?"

Scully leaned over to Rogue's ear and whispered "This might get you farther up then I had hoped. Networking with the president is good for anyone's career."

"Plus this chick is smokin'," said Antwahn. "Oh her accent is somethin' else. I mean she's a little young but, so are you. Shit I hope I ain't no pedophile for saying that. Not that they could lock me up or nothing, since, hell, I don't exist. This is a confusing development."

"If you don't exist, than shut up," Rogue mentally shouted. She nodded to Scully. "Ah'm down with it. And Ah'm hungry too."

Dana smiled at Hermione. "Sure, we would love to take you up on your offer."

"Splendid!" Young Granger clapped her hands in glee. "Hurry, hurry. Oh there is so much to ask you. Oh Ms. Scully!" Herimone gossiped the whole way to the White House. There was a moment when Scully saw a black SUV drive down the street in the direction they were walking. In that moment she thought she saw Agent Fox Mulder, but she brushed it off as desperate wanting.


	14. Chapter 4: The President Calls Germany

**A/N **I really got my insperation for this chapter by the works of Thomas Harris. He's really got this way of using words unlike other authors that I think is really moving. I don't own the characters in this chapter. I'm sorry that it took so long to post this, but I've been playing a lot of Yooyuball lately.

**Chapter 4 – The President Calls Germany**

Jack Ryan dials a telephone.

"Ja, das ist der Chancollor." says the German Chancellor Kaiser Helmut.

"Mr. Chancellor, this is President Jack Ryan. Those nuclear artillery shells we left there after the Cold War, I think it's time we used them."

"Aber, keine –"

"I know what you're going to say sir, and yes we know you have a delivery system. You have the leftover SuperKannon that Hitler built near the Danish border to destroy England with. We want you to load every shell into that and destroy that bastard over there!"

The Chancellor nods to POTUS. POTUS does not see him, since he is on the phone. "Ja, du hast rechts, aber –"

"Sir, we know because we have spies there that are sleeping with your secretaries and uploading viruses to your computers. We do this in every country and have been for centuries. Hell even my grandmother was a spy in Nazi Germany. We know what your SuperKannon is capable of and now is the time to use it."

Kaiser Helmut blinks in surprise. "Herr Presidenta!"

"Mr. Chancellor, our countries have always had a fabulous relationship. I understand the risks that the SuperKannon poses for you, but I promise that in return I will make a marriage contract between one of my children and one of yours, and I will buy a new BMW filled with chocolates and Choo-Choo Clocks."

"Nein, das ist der Schweis –"

"Right now it is, but use the SuperKannon and I'll also give you permission to conquer Switzerland."

Kaiser Helmut likes this. Kaiser Helmut has always wanted to be the only person to ever conquer Switzerland. He imagines his dreams coming true. He licks his lips.

"Sir, I will give you a signal. Then you will fire the Kannon. First the UN is going to talk to Voldumplepotter. Then the world navy will attack. Third a team of commandos will attempt to hit Castle Voldumblepotter's weak spot. If all of those fail, I will need your SuperKannon."

"Ja, al ist klar."

"Good, good, or in your language, gut, gut. Thank you Mr. Chancellor. I will be in touch if the other options fail."

President Jack Ryan hangs up the phone. Then he smiles.


	15. Chapter 5: The Prince & Me

A/N: I don't own these characters. Any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental. I am just using them momentarily for your free entertainment.

oooOOooo

**Chapter 5 – The Prince & Me**

Prince William didn't understand the particulars, but it was apparent that an emergency was transpiring. The blond, 6'5" young man was hurried into an armored SUV by an MI6 agent and the driver wasted no time speeding toward the docks of Monte Carlo.

"Sorry to cut your vacation short sir, but we need you out of the country immediantly."

The Prince had hardly any chance to ask questions and the agent made little effort to inform. But the anxiousness on the face of a British secret service man – normally unflappable – would stick with the young prince for a long time.

ooooo

That was several days ago and William was now on a ship hurdling through the Atlantic to the shores of the new world. William had heard all the details, the horrors, and now it appeared that he was King of England and the only ruling figure of what was once the greatest empire of all time. All that was left of the English race was a few thousand tourists, civilians, soldiers in Iraq and Naval men scattered about the ports of the world. William was to go to Washington to form the government in exile of this motley crew. He pulled a locket from the breast pocket of the tuxedo he had been wearing since his aborted vacation. In it was a portrait of his family – all dead – save him. His mother, the charming, saintly Diana, murdered in a tunnel in France by brazen photogs. His father, Charles, the not-so-charming cheating louse just crushed in the turmoil of a floating England. His goofy brother Harry, anti-semetic and drunk, killed by an IED laid by rebels of the American War of Aggersssion against Muslims. Well, he was sad that his mother was dead anyway. And also England. He could hardly fathom that it had been destroyed, and yet he could just barely see the floating monster, heading slowly toward America. The navies of the world were racing to meet the monster even now, to form a frantic blockade against the madness that was closing in. The Prince sighed. This was nearly too much for him. The loss was suffocating. The weight of responsibility was crushing. But within his breast beat the heart of royalty. He was better, stronger, braver than other men. A leader not by training or experience, but by blood, by nature, by the fundamentals of his reality being he was. The sadness would pass.

Soon he was docked in New York – city of freedom, and happiness, and rats and pigeons. The Prince's first stop was the immigration office of one Cindy McClane a high-powered immigration lawyer who would be servicing him. With his paperwork.

The Prince stepped through the door and into the large office. It had a window, of course, given her status. One that looked out onto the majestic Hudson Bay. Prince William was astonished at the quality of the glass and estimated that it must be worth 500 pounds or more. Out in the bay a dolphin leaped into the air and crashed back into the water. The left side of the room was a bar complete with bottles of Don Perrione, Crystal, and the more extravagant Boone's Farm.

"Please have a drink." The sultry voice behind him was a sweet surprise. The prince turned and gazed at the woman before him.

"I find that my thirst is quite quenched by the waterfall of beauty I behold."

Prince William had spent a lifetime being accosted by ravishing members of the opposite sex, so when he says Cindy is a looker that really means something.

She moved a strand of fiery red hair away from her watery blue eyes. Watery blue the way the Caribbean is blue – a clear blue that one can see right through forever, instead of seeing sand and fish they way a snorkeler would, and instead of applying the metaphor literally and seeing eye parts and brains, the Prince could see a soul of strength and determination, a blanket of defiance to the tragedies that had used all their power to smother and destroy her. A quilt would be more appropriate; a patch of sternness here, a patch of goodness there, one for the pain of love lost, another for hope, one told him she was quick to laugh, quicker to forgive, eager to learn, hard-working, loyal, yearning to live and love. In seconds the Prince was overwhelmed with the knowledge of her life. He knew everything about her, and what's more he understood her in a way no one really had. Her faults and flaws were laid bare – and so as he watched – was she. The door shut and locked, their arms were around each other by the time it clicked the signal of unopenable security. A thousand women before her had lips that tasted like lips, or coffee, or mint gum, or cherry lip balm. Cindy's were the taste of honey and ambrosia. The warmth of her desire pressed against him just as the chill sensation of her fingertips against his increasingly naked skin.

Prince William had had sex with a lot of women. But this was the first time he had made love with one.

In the morning he filled out some papers and had legal stay in the United States.

In the evening he was in her Soho apartment making love again and again as though he were a license plate maker in a huge factory and the day was to make license plates and nothing else and this plate maker found making them was what he loved more than anything in the world, and on top of that the joy he received from making license pates kept out the hardships of a poor domestic life – a wife who beat him, children who hated him, a dog who pissed in one shoe and shat in the other. It was exactly like that except the good part was making love and the bad part was that his kingdom was destroyed and turned into a monster bent on murdering him and he was trapped in American where there was no National Health System. Prince William thought all this as he ravished Cindy on her synthetic polar bear skin rug.

OOOOO

Fashion experts Clinton Kelly and Stacy London were getting a mournful of bad fashion from 34-year-old dietician Sara Clark. This mother of two had a bad appetite for too-big sweaters and too-tight jeans. Could the 360 degree mirror bring some nutrients to this fashion-starved doctor?

"Look at what this sweater is doing to youir shape!" chided Stacy, a domineering woman with a gray streak that made her look matronly. "It's like you're drowning in a vat of marshmallows!"

"Oh no! I'm drowning!" Joked the 6'4" Clinton as he plugged his nose and pantomimed sinking into a vat.

"Seriously you have an amazing hourglass figure," Stacy pulled back the extra fabric of Sara's sweater to emphasize. "But no one can see it."

"But I love this outfit, it's so comfortable!" said the beleaguered woman.

"Comfort is no excuse for…" Clinton paused in the middle of the sentence and stared into space. "Oh my." He said.

"Um Clinton. What's going on?" asked Stacy firmly. She took her most defiant hands-on-hips stance. "We're kind of on TV here." The producers and cameramen exchanged glances.

"I had never actually expected this to happen." He murmured to himself. "He's returned. Really, truly returned." He looked up at the ceiling.

Stacy grew more impatient. "Dammit Kelly I'm sick of your crystal meth binges fucking up my stardom! Get your shit –"

"Shut up." Clinton turned his gaze to her and cast upon her a cold, dead stare. "Stacy, gentlemen, dear Sara. This is my letter of resignation." A wand fell from his shirt sleeve into his waiting left hand. "I have just received word from my previous employer – Voldemort, the dark lord – that my services as a deatheater are needed again."

"Kelly! Stop this right now!" Stacy screamed.

The producer and cameramen began to back away. Sara teetered on the edge of tears.

Clinton glared at Stacy and with a flick of his hand her mouth was duct-taped over.

"Quiet you. My time with you muggles was very enjoyable, and I love the clothes, but evil is my true calling." He flashed his wand again and Stacy's outfit turned into an oversized burlap sack with poodles embroidered on it. Stacy shrieked through the confines of the tape at the hideous outfit. He pointed the wand at Sara and flicked it and to her horror she appeared dressed in an A-line skirt, form-fitting blouse and slim jacket that accented the narrowest part – the waist. "There. Feel free to keep the 5000. Soon muggle money will be replaced by the coinage of Voldemort. Oh, I nearly forgot." He flashed the wand again and gave her a modern haircut and nice make-up that could be applied in less than five minutes.

The producers and cameraman were terrified by the events; that is until Clinton transfigured them all into pigs. Except for one that Clinton detested who burst into flames and died horribly. Then with maniacal glee and gusto Clinton shot a hole into the studio's ceiling and flew off, laughing the whole way.

OOOOO

"What is thy bidding, my master?" asked Clinton into the wind as he stood above the pulsating streets of New York City on a leering gargoyle perched on an old building. The wind said nothing back, being wind, but a particular Darigan Phoenix alighted from the heavens and perched on Clinton's shoulder. There was a scroll tied to its foot.

It read: "Deatheater Kelleron, I have a special mission for you. A certain British subject is in your city and is a threat to me. Assasinate him immediantly. A killing curse is much preferred. Burnie will provide transportation."

Clinton looked to the phoenix and nodded. "I am ready." In a flash they were teleported to an upscale apartment in Soho. The residence in fact of one Cindy McClane. After a wild afternoon of cavorting she and Prince William were asleep in her bed. Clinton brushed off the teleportation disorientation quickly and found the sleeping lovers.

Without thought or remorse Clinton aimed his wand at Prince William and fired a killing curse.

"Adava Cadaver!" screamed Clinton as the evil negative energy was more powerful by the fury he put into it. A normal man would have had a heart attack and died.

But it was not so. As the spell reached Prince William, a field of gold light surrounded him and the curse was deflected upward through the ceiling. It struck and killed Vivian Anderson, 56, a respected marketing agent for a major fashion magazine. The prince and Cindy were startled awake by the noise. Clinton was taken aback and looked at the Prince in amazement.

"Who are you!" demanded Prince William, unashamed to stand naked before his attacker.

"That, that was my strongest killing curse! No one can withstand it!" said the flabbergasted Deatheater. "Only one person ever survived a killing curse and he is in the dark lord's clutches!"

The Prince stood nude and angry, his taunt body bristling with muscle and the gold field shimmering around him. "I don't know who you are, but if you've come to assassinate me, you've got another thing coming!"

"Willy! What's happened to you?" Cried Cindy, unashamed of her nudity as well and using the pet name she had devised for him so both of their names ended in 'y'. "You're glowing!"

The Prince looked at himself. "Bloody hell, what did you do to me!" Then a pain struck his temple. "Argh!" His hand flew to his forehead and came back with blood. Wide-eyed with fear, Clinton stared at the lightning bolt scar that now graced the left forehead of Prince William.

"This can't be – you can't be – the brother!" Clinton said. There had always been a terrible fear by the dark forces that Harry might have had a sibling to match his power. After all, Grayson Dumbledore had been quite the adventurous sort.

Prince William became angry. "My brother Harry is dead! You monster! Did you have something to do with it?!" The Prince leapt at Clinton.

A foolish move it was however. All deatheaters are master of martial arts and excellently combat-trained. Clinton's shock disappeared quickly and he leapt into a spinning heel kick that blasted Prince William over the bed.

"Bah I won't need a killing curse to eliminate an unfashionable brat like you!" Cindy rushed to her closet as Clinton stormed around the bed toward the prone prince. Cindy seized her nine-iron from her golf supplies and tossed it Willy's way. The Prince grabbed it in mid air and quickly got to his feet. Clinton blasted him with two fast punches and knocked him through the glass sliding door onto the expansive balcony. Methodically Clinton stalked his prey. Prince William scrambled to his feet and pointed the club at Clinton.

"Stay back!" he cried.

"Pathetic," muttered Clinton. He wasn't so confident when the gold field surrounding Prince William suddenly channeled itself into the golf club with a flash of light the club became an ivory wand with gold streaks wrapping around it and brilliant gold caps on each end.

Unaware of his movements, the Prince spoke in an ancient tongue "Maclyious Patrious Noglimnoy!" This inverse gravity spell caught Clinton and flung him off the balcony and into the peril of New York air.

Cindy ran to the young man. "Willy! Are you alright, my darling?" Her voice was laced with fear and confusion.

He took her in his tautly muscled arms and spoke gently into her ear. "I am my wandering parakeet. With you at my side I will always prevail. I have no earthly idea of what happened just now."

"I do!" Cried Clinton. The deatheater flew up and hovered above them. "Don't think I've been defeated you toad. I'll be back again!" He pointed an arm up towards the heavens and whooshed off spectacularly.

OOOOO

Gandalf felt a great disturbance in the magical world as though something really important and plot-changing had just happened. He immediately teleported to it.

OOOOO

A flash of light startled the lovers once more nad they spun to see a kindly old man in their bedroom. "Not again!" roared the prince who aimed his wand and the purple dressed gentleman.

"Hold your anger, young man. My name is Gandalf head of the wizards of America."

"Oh," said Prince William and he lowered his wand.

"I can see that you are confused by the present situation." Gandalf continued, studying the wreckage of the room and the nude prince carefully. His eyes widened when he saw the lightning bolt scar. 'My word, it is true! You are the long lost brother of Harry!"

The Prince was taken aback. "My brother Harry isn't lost. I saw him just three weeks ago –"

"No, no, not that Harry, not the other prince. Harry Potter is the Harry I speak of."

He was more surprised now. "I've read those books, and they're jolly good, but-"

"No, please, stop interrupting. Harry Potters is a real boy and those stories are just as real. Except that they are missing the truth. Grayson Dumbledore is his father and he sired two heirs: Harry and you."

"But my pop is Prince Charles!"

"No. Charles was the father of the Harry that you thought was your only brother. He is actually your half brother and you and Potter are twins." Gandalf looked at the astonishment on both their faces. "Yes, Princess Diana is Harry Potter's mother!"

Lightning crashed outside and rain began to pour. "Your mother, William, was a very powerful witch who cast a love spell on you and Harry when you were born. It would protect you from the killing curse. Diana and Grayson separated you to keep it all a secret. Diana went on to marry that boar you thought a father and Grayson put the idea for that book series into the dreams of an over-worked nanny on the streets of London who would one day become J.K. Rowling. A marvelous misdirection. In any case Grayson took Harry so that Voldemort wouldn't try to kill both of you. You and Harry would one day be strong enough to kill Voldemort according to prophecy. And he is still attempting to disrupt that fate."

"But wait," said Cindy. "I read those books too, and the prophecy part was silly and cliché. It can't be real."

"Bah," said Gandalf. "You muggles don't have any appreciation. That is just how these things work."

"Does all this have anything to do with the destruction of England?" asked the Prince.

"Oh my boy does it ever. Voldemort took over the bodies of your brother and father and became Voldeumblepotter, the most powerful wizard ever to live. The man you fought was one of his minions – a deatheater. I'm glad that you have been discovered. We must take you to the President. He is working on a way to battle Voldedumblepotter. I know you think you are useless, but you have the magic of your mother in you. You are capable of becoming a great wizard. Hurry, put on clothes, the both of you! We must depart forth with before he returns with greater numbers!"

"Take us now Gandalf," said Cindy. "Time is wasting and we are not ashamed of our nudity."

"I can see," said Gandalf, ogling the seductive immigration lawyer. "And neither should anyone be ashamed of you." They huddled around Gandalf and were warped back to the White House.

OOOOO

Clinton Kelly was enraged. He stormed about his studio apartment. He had been duped, betrayed. He pulled the message from Voldeumblepotter from his pocket.

"Why send me to use a killing curse on the boy when you knew it wouldn't work!" He raged at the letter.

The words disappeared and new ones were written. "I was uncertain of his true identity. Only the curse would show me for sure. Now that the lost brother is revealed I will absorb him as well and my power will extend beyond the confines of this earth." Cackle, cackle, cackle wrote the letter.

"Deatheater Kelleron you have done well. Take your new place as general of the Deatheaters. Raise up all that you can find and lay waste to the United States."

Clinton smiled at his new assignment. He had long chaffed against the amendment banning same-sex marriage signed into law by President Jack Ryan, and now was his chance for revenge. He knew exactly where to begin.


	16. Chapter 5a

**A/N: **The plot thickens and the pace picks up. What will happen to the world? It should be known that I am not using these characters for monetary gain, nor could I, as I do not own them, or their likenesses.

OOOOO

Elsewhere and else time, Jack Ryan was in the war room coordinating the naval armada in the middle of the Atlantic. He was wearing a tailored Italian suit with a silk tie that had been undone and was draped on the table he was leaning over. His hair was rumpled and his brow was sweaty.

"Move the aircraft carriers to the left. Their planes need to flank Voldumblepotter from behind so they don't get caught in the big ship's guns. Submarines should surface right underneath it. No scrap that idea. The debris will be falling right on top of them. Godddamit!" He slammed his fist into the table. "Robbie! We don't have enough! There aren't enough ships here. How can we possibly destroy the entire island of Britain –"

"538.7 million megatons of matter," quipped an advisor. His name was Kingston McGonigal, the top geographer at Wisconsin University and the unquestioned expert on the British Isles in America. He had a fondness for Ireland that had made the Voldumblepotter business personal. What also made it personal, and even Kingston didn't know this, but he was related to Professor Mindereva McGonigal, a headmaster at Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft.

There was a sharp knock on the door. "Come the fuck in!" Yelled the stressed out Jack Ryan. The President never gets stressed out. He remains cool and collected and able to decide with his logic and not his emotions. But the last two days have contained just stress and whacked out situations that even he is getting upset.

Into the room came Special Agent Pat O'Day, escorting Ex-Special Agent Fox Mulder. "Here's the man you wanted, Mr. President."

The President jumped to his feet and hurried over to shake Fox's hand. "Fox 'Spooky' Mulder. Welcome to the war room. I need your advice. We're dealing with crazy magic bullshit." Snape wasn't in the room at the moment, so it was ok for him to say this. "And I need an expert's advice who isn't one of them. A lot of magical folk have been around here lately, spouting off. No one in the CIA or anywhere knew anything about magic, or wizards, and now all out of the blue here they are. You know more about the supernatural than anyone else. Tell me."

Jack folded his hands and stared at Mulder. Mulder nodded. "This isn't a hallucination or a prank sir. This is all real. I don't think this is 'magic' however. I believe that these people have been in contact with aliens and have access to technology that dwarfs anything we can imagine."

"Sam hill, fucking alien shit," said Robbie Johnson, vice president. "Sir, this guy is a nutjob. How could anyone have technology so advanced they ripe islands out of the ocean and teleport. How come we've never seen them with anything close to technology on them. They're all dressed in wizard's robes."

"Of course they're wearing robes, Mr. Vice President," Mulder was quick to defend himself. "Robes are big and billowy, capable of hiding things. And on top of that, imagine if you took a time machine back to the Middle Ages and brought a gun, or an iPod. People back then would think it was magic. This is the same thing, except that their alien technology is much more advanced."

"Well if it is aliens, and not magic, what can we do?" asked the President.

"Sir, I think the best thing we can do is find the alien source, and shut it down. If we can get the aliens to turn off their technology, or better yet, get them to provide it to all of us, than we can be on the same playing field."

Jack Ryan nodded his head. "It makes sense to me. But how can we find the aliens? They must have cloaking technology or something that makes them invisible, otherwise we'd have found them by now."

"I've got that one covered sir. I've spent my life searching for aliens, and I know what to look for. If you can get me access to all of your spy satellites and other intel, I'll find them."

"Alright," said SWORDSMAN. "This doesn't sound like a bad idea. We can't let the other wizards know about this so no one talks about this outside this room. Fox you have permission to look at everything you can. We'll buy you all the time we can, but you have to find those aliens fast."

There was another knock on the door, and before permission could be granted, Hermionine, Dana Scully, and Rogue burst into the room.

"Mr. President, I brought someone to help you! Her name is Dana Scully and she is the most brilliant muggle in the world, and I know everything, so it must be true!"

Everyone was suspiciously quiet at first, since she wasn't supposed to burst in as they plotted against the wizards, but Fox broke it up with a loud exclamation.

"Scully!" His eyes told him it was a trick, but his brain did not believe it.

"Oh no, Fox what are you doing here?" Scully looked away from him.

"I was invited here by the president to be an advisor. What are you doing here?"

"Um what's going on here?" said Rogue. "Do y'all know each other or some such?"

"Silly girl," snapped Hermione. "Of course they know each other. Fox here, Fox Mulder is his full name, is Dana's partner, and they're in love with each other according to the comments people on the internet write about their casefiles."

"What?! No, we're not in love," said Scully. She crossed her arms over her stomach and hoped that no one would realize she was pregnant with his baby.

"Scully, seeing you here in this war room, when I thought I would never see you again makes me realize that there's something I've needed to say to you for a long time." He paused and dabbed a tear from his eye. "Scully, no, Dana, you are the only woman for me. When my theories make me fly off, you bring me back down. You don't just tell me I'm crazy, you challenge me. And it makes me better, stronger. You ground me, you keep me in touch with the real world. I love you Dana Scully."

Dana was touched. She…she… "God Fox, I need you too. I regret everything I said to you yesterday. I didn't get that abortion, and it's time I said what I needed to say. You make me want to reach for the stars. You give me the chance to dream impossible dreams, to live outside the mundane. You've shown me that there's more to life than routine and practicality. You make life special. I love you Fox Mulder."

The two rushed into each other's arms and were swept into an almighty beautiful kiss, the kind that not even Cindy and Prince William could pull off. Speaking of which, they and Gandalf teleported into the room.

"Mr. President," said Gandalf. "I present to you Prince William and Cindy McClane. Prince William is the strongest wizard in the world and the long lost brother of Harry Potter. Only he can bring down Voldumblepotter."

"Holy fucking asscracks," said President Jack Ryan. "Everyone needs to calm the fuck down right now. This is MY goddamn show, and you all will stop bursting in here with all this craziness. First everyone stand in a line. Fox, we've already talked, so you can stand on that side of the room." Jack pointed behind him. Fox nodded and obediently stood over there. "Now, I appreciate you little girl," he said to Herminione. "But I'm going to talk to Gandalf first. He seems more important than this well dressed woman and some random teenager. Ok, Gandalf, why are you here, and why are they naked?"

"They are unashamed of their nudity and wanted to waste no time in coming here. Let me say again. He is the brother of Harry Potter."

Gandalf paused and looked at the President in all seriousness. The President looked back, his blue eyes perfectly matching his suit, hair ruffled just so, face grim, did not have any idea why that was important. Herminione did though.

"He's the brother of Harry Potter!?" she exclaimed. "Harry has no brother, he would have told me."

"Even Harry did not know. It has been a secret for a long time."

"Now that I look at him, I can see a resemblance," said Hermionie. She was finding herself more interested in the Prince's penis than in Cindy's vagina. If Harry was packing like Prince William, he would be better than any dildo she had used. The young witch wondered why she had never attempted to sleep with Harry and then remembered that she was a lesbian. She gave a glance to Dana Scully and then confirmed it to herself.

"Potter?" said the president. "Like in Voldumblepotter…that's right you guys told me about this. Ok so we have the brother of the guy who's trying to take over the world. Guards! Seize him!"

"No, no!" cried Gandalf as armed guards moved on the prince. "You misunderstand. Harry Potter is good, he was absorbed by Voldemort, the bad guy, who could only be defeated by Harry Potter. Now we have the brother of Harry Potter who is strong enough to defeat Voldemort."

Jack Ryan scratched his manly head. "But we're not fighting Voldemort anymore, we're fighting Voldumblepotter. Is the Prince strong enough to beat him? And wait, he's Prince William of England. He can't be related to anyone with the last name of Potter."

"Well actually, Harry and Prince William are both the sons of Princess Diana who was a powerful witch. No one knew it, but her last name was actually Potter. Diana Potter, princess of Wales."

"So my real name is William Potter?" asked the prince.

"Yes it is," said Gandalf. His purple robes were stately and clean.

"When we marry, I will be Cindy Potter?" asked Cindy.

"Only if you want to take my name, love," said Prince William. "You could keep it, or you could hyphenate and be Potter-McClane."

"So you've confirmed it! We are going to get married!" She embraced him and they kissed passionately.

"Alright Gandalf," said the President Jack Ryan, looking away from the pawing couple. "If he's able to beat Voldumblepotter, then he'd got to be on the strike team I'm assembling. I'm sending in the Rainbow Six team, Snape, and his wizard kids to find the Corpus Reslix and kill Voldumblepotter."

"You're sending me on a mission!" cried Herminonie. "Thank you so much for taking that risk on me, sir! I have a request. Can you send Special Agent Dana Scully here with me. And her too," she said pointing at Rogue. "Her name is Rogue."

"Oh, I forgot about you. Who are these people?"

"This is Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI, and she is absolutely brilliant, and –"

Jack Ryan, President, cut her off. "Fine, whatever, just stop talking to me. I have more important things to do. Gandalf, I'm going to send in this strike team as soon as Rainbow 6 returns from Russia. And then I have to wait for a special drillplane to be created by Lockheed Martin and Caterpillar that can burrow into Castle Voldumblepotter and let the strike team in."

"Oh well if that's all you're waiting for," said the mighty wizard. With a flick of his wand, the entire Rainbow 6 team appeared in the room, dressed for combat. They were all very surprised. "Oh, and that plane you need is up on the front lawn. We really didn't have time to waste. I've already put the plan magically in their heads."

"Sir, Mr. President, sir," said John Clark. "We're ready to take this crazy sumabitch back down to earth."

"Wow, this is awesome," said SWORDSMAN. "Well, everybody get topside, hop in the plane and prepare for launch."

"Mr. President," Fox said. "If Dana is going on this mission, and I think you gave her permission to go, I'd like to go to."

"Yes, I did do that, and no you can't. I need you Fox, for that assignment I gave you," Ryan gave him a wink. "Don't worry, your girlfriend will be safe with Rainbow 6 and all those wizards."

"Sir, you're mistaken. She's not my girlfriend, she's my fiancée." With that Fox got down on his knee and took Dana's hand. "Scully, will you marry me?"

The red-head was shocked. Her mind raced, but her heart spoke for her quickly and decisively. "Yes, I will." They embraced again and kissed passionately. Cindy and Prince William Potter were still kissing passionately.

Antwahn watched from Rogue's head. "Damn this shit is hot, come on orgy!"

"Stop being a pervert, this is a beautiful moment," Rogue said to him mentally.

The president threw up his hands. "Out! All of you out! You have assignments, missions, a whole world to save. Get this shit done and then come back and make out in my war room!"

"Sir, we are all fighting for love, I think this shows just how important love is," said Hermione. Secretly she was hoping for an orgy.

"OK! I'll make you all a deal. When you get back, we'll throw a double wedding on the White House lawn and I'll be the officiate."

"Sir, that would be such an honor," said Dana Scully, who might soon be Dana Mulder. Or Dana Scully-Mulder. Probably just Dana Scully. That is, if she lives.

Cindy and Prince William were equally pleased. The president ordered them to put on clothes and then everyone went upstairs to see the drillplane.

Just as Gandalf said, it was there. Thirty feet long, it appeared to be the finest stealth plane there could be, except it had a giant drill bit on the front, perfectly designed for burrowing into good, solid British soil. Ron and Draco and Snape showed up as well. Then the team boarded the plane. It shouldn't have been completed for weeks, but such is the power of Gandalf the White that he can make planes appear from nowhere. It convinced Fox quite a lot that aliens were involved. He looked around at the sky, but didn't see any. At least none that he could see with his eyes.

Rainbow 6 boarded the plane first – Clark, Ding, Ace, Aargon, Edgar, and Jimbo. Clark was a crack pilot who had bombed many Koreans during the Korean War. He had once been a flying sniper and had killed an Iraqi tank commander during the Gulf War from his A-10 Warthog with his trusty rifle. Like so many men before him, Clark was a man. He took the flight stick and prepped the plane for launch. Many secret service agents watched curiously around the lawn.

Snape led the children into the plane, and then came Dana, Rogue, and Prince William, dressed in a good suit and matching Kevlar vest. His wand was holstered and within easy reach. He gave Cindy one last kiss before he boarded. The plane launched quickly into the air, destination: Voldumblepotter.

Jack watched the strange drillplane ascend into the starry night sky. Not so long ago, he would have been on there, using his Navy SEAL training to fight wizards, or ghosts, or whatever they might encounter. Instead, he was stuck on the ground, forced to give orders that might be sending people to their deaths. He hoped they would be back and he could give that double wedding. Wouldn't his wife have been proud of him if he had gotten them married by a president? _But I guess she's pretty proud of me now,_ Jack Ryan thought to himself. He decided two things then and there. First, he would get the navy to attack Voldumblepotter and provide cover for the commandos. Second, he would make love to his wife, Juliette. And he did both of those things, in that order.


End file.
